


Wash My Hair

by Muffie



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Fanon, Humor, Light BDSM, M/M, Post-Canon, Relena Finds Out, Topping from the Bottom, Virgin!Duo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muffie/pseuds/Muffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duo suddenly finds himself in possession of a sex Perfect Soldi---slave. With a collar. And leash. And a set of instructions. And the toy box from hell. What is a virgin supposed to do with a sex Perfect Soldi---slave? [First Posted: October 21, 2005]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just Call Me a Pole-Axed Golden Retriever

**Author's Note:**

> Post EW. Sappy! Fluffy! Romantic-y! Humor-y! It's in first person, Duo POV, and highly idiomatic. I am unrepentant about this. If you find yourself very confused, don't feel bad, so am I. Expect sap. Expect tons of sexual misconduct. Don't expect full-on lemons. Muffie does not like to write lemons. Fluffy D/s. You know, the giggly kind, with lots of sparklies. Okay, maybe not, but still, it's a way fluffy take on D/s. I don't mean any disrespect to anyone involved in D/s, but I find it difficult to take anything seriously.
> 
>  **Squick Factor:** Off-screen, alluded to Dx1 (air sick bags are located in the seat pocket in front of you)

_Never_ tell Dorothy anything sexual, trust me on this one. It's like that vid where the guy got three wishes from the devil, some hot chick in red latex. Anyway, all of his wishes came out wrong. _Way_ wrong. Like he wished that he was rich and married to the girl of his dreams and he ended up being an L2 crime lord and she was having an affair with his lieutenant who was planning on killing him and taking over. 

So I was telling Doro about my secret shower fantasies. Shut up, they're not racy or anything, I just wanted someone who would wash my hair. There ain't nothing like two tons of wet hair to turn a pleasant shower into weight lifting hell. I have bodybuilders asking how I got my triceps all the time. Doro, of course, lights up like Peace Square on New Year's when I told her.

The next thing I know she's got her purse dumped all over the table and, while I'm chasing lipstick around the entree, she's calling someone. 

"Dorothy?"

She waved her hand at me. "It took you three rings to answer the phone." My jaw dropped. I had never heard her use that tone of voice before, at least not since the Eve Wars. She kind of reminded me of Une when she had the buns in her hair and put her glasses on. "Prepare yourself. Be here in thirty minutes." She frowned at the receiver for a moment, then rattled off my address. Did someone just kick my butt through a rabbit hole when I wasn't looking?

"What in the—? You didn't just hook me up with another loser, did you?" _Please no, please no, plea—_

"No, just the answer to all your fantasies."

It was worse. I could just see it now; Dorothy was my hot chick in red latex. "What did you do?!"

She refused to answer. Instead she paid the bill, hit on the bus boy, dragged me through the restaurant, selected the cabbie by the size of his nose (you know what they say about the size of a man's nose), and dropped me off at my place. I thought she would go with me, but no, she just jumped into the front seat and told the cabbie to take her to heaven. 

Hopefully there would be no one there. If I were really lucky, Dorothy's idea of my sexual fantasies was sitting in his underwear, watching the game, and drinking a beer. At his house, not mine.

Mrs. Clovis stepped off of the elevator and slapped her hand over her mouth. Instead of the general disapproval she usually preferred to affect when dealing with me, her eyes twinkled. "You sly devil. How did you manage to do it?"

What in the hell was the old bat talking about? "Do what, Mrs. Clovis?"

"You know what. The young man."

"The plumber? It's about time, the commode won't stop running."

She tittered and dropped her hand. "The naked one in front of your door. When he's done with your pipes, send him my way!"

"He's not, I mean, I'm not, Mrs. _Clovis_!"

"I'm old, honey, not dead. Whew."

I had a sudden nightmare vision of Mrs. Clovis telling me about her "pipes." I pressed the button to my floor and smiled weakly at the old woman when the doors closed. Oh hell, what had Dorothy done?

Sticking my head carefully around the corner when the doors binged open on my floor, I saw him. Just about passed out cold, too. I leaned against the wall next to the elevator bank and jerked the cell phone out of my backpack.

"Dorothy," I hissed, "there is a man in my hallway."

"Oh good, he's there."

"He's _naked_!!"

"He's supposed to be wearing a leather g-string. Check, will ya? Oooh, do that again, baby."

" _Dorothy!_ There is a naked man kneeling in front of my door! Mrs. Clovis wants him to clean her pipes!"

"I'm sorry, I dropped the phone, what?"

"The man is kneeling in front of my door!"

"Good, he's supposed to."

" _What?!_ "

"You said that you wished you had a sex slave to wash your hair. So I got you one. Oh my God, baby, is that all _you_?"

"Doro?" I heard a masculine moan and then she hung up. "Dorothy!"

God dammit. I shoved the phone into my pack and peeked around the corner. He hadn't moved. What was I going to do? I considered calling HQ for backup before one of my other neighbors went out for an evening constitutional and found a naked, kneeling man wearing a studded, black leather collar in front of my door and did it for me. God only knew what Wufei would say about _this_. I was so not in the mood for a justice rant on top of a naked man kneeling in my doorway. A _naked_ man. _Naked_. In _my_ doorway. _Kneeling_ in _my_ doorway! _Naked_!

Okay, Maxwell, breathe. It's just some guy. _Naked_.

"He's only doing what he's been told to do," I muttered. Like that made it all better. "Yeah, but what kinda guy shows up—naked, I might add—in front of a perfect stranger's doorway just because Doro told him to?"

That one had me stumped. Obviously, he was Doro's sex slave and Doro was lending him to me. A sex slave. A _sex_ slave. For _me_. People like me just didn't meet _real_ sex slaves. Oh, I knew there were people into that, but the only sex slaves I ever knew of were victims and since Criminal Div dealt with it, I never actually met any. 

"It's only for the night. It's not like I have to potty train him or anything." Put like that, it sounded perfectly reasonable to march down the hallway and swoop the man into my apartment.

I peeked around the corner again. He was looking in my direction. _Holy fuck! Shit!_ It was _Heero!_

I jerked back, pressing against the wall, and took a deep breath. So he knew I was there. I stiffened my spine and marched resolutely down the corridor before I could think the better of it and run screaming down the stairs. I tried very hard not to look at Heero, instead, I found my keys and stared at my doorknob. Blase. Nonchalant. Like there were utterly gorgeous, naked men that I seriously crushed on in my youth kneeling in my doorway all the time.

He wasn't naked. He was wearing a studded, black leather g-string; a studded, black leather collar; and holding what appeared to be a studded, black leather leash in his left hand. He was kneeling on an overcoat. Nonplused, I missed the doorknob with my car key a few times before I figured it out and opened the door. He stared at my feet; I stared at the top of his head. Should I invite him in? Send him home?

"Um...." Normally I couldn't shut up. Now I didn't know what to say. "You wanna come in?"

"If you would like me to, Sir."

"Well." I chewed on my bottom lip and tried to figure it out. The dinging of the elevator sorta helped me along. "Come in. Hurry up before anyone else sees you."

Heero rose gracefully to his feet, like ballet dancer mixed with construction worker. He shot me a look from the corner of his eyes that made me feel like he was staring up at me even though he was bigger than I was. Then he was inside of my apartment. He stood in the center of my living room, looking around with his head bowed, and didn't say anything. He didn't even shift his weight around. He just stood there. Waiting. Perfectly still. Perfectly formed. Almost perfectly _naked_. 

I quietly shut the door and threw the bolt. Trying for some sort of normalcy—as normal as possible with an utterly gorgeous, nearly naked Heero Yuy wearing only a collar and a g-string in my living room—I dropped my stuff on the table by the door and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. Reality and me must have parted ways on the elevator. That is the _only_ rational explanation for any of this. "Tequila would be better," I muttered. 

He cocked his head in my direction. "Did you say something, Sir?"

"Would you like something to drink?"

"If you would like for me to, Sir." 

"Um. Shit. It's been a long time." I twisted my fingers around the glass, then figured what the hell and got more water. I fetched down a glass for him, too. He watched me, from the corner of his eyes. "I haven't seen you in a couple of years."

"Yes, Sir."

"Hey, buddy, my name is Duo, remember?"

He didn't look up from the floor. "Yes, Sir Duo."

"Heero—"

"I am called slave, Sir."

I blinked. I tried to push the idea of _Heero_ together with the idea of _slave_ and just couldn't get my brain to perform the necessary mental gymnastics. I wanted to shake my head, but I didn't want to look like a pole-axed Golden Retriever in front of Heero, either. "By who?" Wow, such genius, such glibness!

"Mistress calls me slave."

"Ooooookay."

He ducked his head. "You are displeased with me, Sir."

"I'm just really weirded out here."

"Will Mistress Dorothy be here soon?"

"I doubt it. She's kinda busy with her cabbie."

He flinched. "Thank you, Sir."

Interesting. _Verrrrrry_ interesting. "What's the story with you'n Doro? I didn't know she was into the slave master thing. Or you, for that matter." I frowned. "Though, come to think of it, she's all fucked up that way."

"Mistress Dorothy has been training me for a little over a year." That would put it right around a year after the end of the Mariemaia Uprising. His feet suddenly seemed to be incredibly important to him. "Before that, my last Master was Dekim, before the Eve Wars."

" _Dekim_? Dekim Barton? That insane motherfucker? The one whose bloody little uprising you put paid to with a beam cannon? _That_ Dekim Barton?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Fuck." If that wasn't an understatement I didn't know what was.

The conversation sort of ended there. I pretended I held mezcal and slugged back the water. He watched me silently from beneath his eyelashes and didn't say anything. The oddest thing was that he stood perfectly still, comfortable in his balance. Not even Chang "the Dragon Master" Wufei could stand still like that. It was all zen in a way sexy way. You couldn't help but see that perfect control and wonder what _else_ he could do with it. Not to mention that the man's body was gorgeous. Not just in the way it was put together, but in the way he used it. I could watch him stand around doing nothing for hours on end. Hell, I used to watch him sit around and do nothing type for hours on end.

"So, what do you do when you're not wearing a collar?"

"I always wear a collar, Sir."

"You walk around all day in that thing?"

"No, Sir. Mistress Dorothy gave me a necklace as a collar suitable for outdoor wear."

"Oh." That made sense. I couldn't think of anything to say. That was such a rare event, it shocked me into considering the notion of being speechless. I decided that I didn't much care for it.

"Mistress Dorothy is with a cab driver, Sir?"

"Apparently he's got a big dick."

"I see, Sir."

Huh. Gorgeous slave Heero seemed so sad.

"Hey, don't feel bad. It's probably not much bigger than yours. Dorothy doesn't go for anything under nine inches. She's sort of perfected the art of picking them out." Of course, I never knew if I should be relieved of insulted that she hadn't glommed onto me. I chose to pick relieved most of the time.

He blushed and shifted his weight.

It took me a few moments, but I finally got the picture. "Well, you know what they say. It's the firing of the pistons not the size of your crankshaft."

He gave me a look. One of _those_ looks that everyone gives me from time to time. I think one of _those_ looks pointed at me was the first thing that ever broke his infamous concentration. I'd been pretty fucking proud about it, too. Whatever. People are so weird. I must have looked annoyed because he quickly apologized and stared at his feet.

"How serious are you about Dorothy?"

"She is my Mistress."

"I kinda figured that out. She did call you up and send your almost naked butt here."

He blushed again. God, that was _so_ adorable.

"You're not like thinking forever and ever amen with her are you?"

He didn't say anything.

"You are!"

The suddenly lack of complete stillness clued me in that he was somewhat annoyed with me. "Was there something you wanted me for, Sir?"

"I want to hear more about you and Dorothy. I mean, what's it like? Do you do this whole slave thing all the time with her or just on weekends or what? Does she, like, whip you and stuff or is it more the sucking her toes thing?"

He looked completely uncomfortable. It was like the need to obey was fighting with the need to protect his privacy or something. I frowned and he opened his mouth. "Stop." Damn, now _I_ sounded like Une after the hair and the glasses thing. I moderated my tone a little. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome."

Now what? I could definitely stand there all night looking at him. He was masculinity perfected, only more naked. He was peeking at me from the corner of his eyes again, like some infinitely patient statue waiting for me to tell him what to do. I couldn't just let him stand there.

"Sir? May I ask what I am here for?"

"I guess Doro didn't tell you."

"No, Sir."

I squared my shoulders and went into the living room with him. If he was going to kill me, he'd've done it already. I sat on the couch and gestured to a chair. "Please, sit."

He sat on the floor.

"I meant in the chair."

"Chairs are for Masters, Sir. I am a slave; I sit on the floor."

"Look, I'm not a master."

"Mistress Dorothy sent me here, Sir, so you are my Master until I am told otherwise."

I opened my mouth and shut it again. I looked like a freaking trout. I tried again. "Okay, I'm not anyone's master. I'm a Preventer, okay? We serve and protect, not whip and chain."

He gave me another _look_.

I dropped down to the floor to sit next to him, though somehow he made it feel like I towered over him anyway. I glowered and tried not to look like I was pouting. "I made a mistake, okay? I told Doro one of my fantasies and she sent you here without even asking me. She just did it." 

"Mistress Dorothy wants me to fulfill your fantasy, Sir?"

"Uh-uh! I don't care how fucking gorgeous you are, you are _not_ getting into a shower with me!" I'd die of either a heart attack or an aneurysm or loss of blood in my brain. It was hard to tell through his perfect slave boy poker face, but I just knew he was grinning at me. I blushed clear to my toenails. "I don't get naked with people on, uh, oh hell, just say I'm shy and leave it at that."

"You've never been shy, Sir." He grew a little bit bolder and looked me directly in the face, sort of, a slight smile playing around his mouth. "You're really a Preventer?"

"They gave me a gun and everything." Like Doro and Wu-Wu didn't make a big deal out of how stupid they were for doing _that_ at least once a month.

"May I ask what your fantasy is, Sir?"

"Um, well, I just, um, thought about, um, someone to, um, wash my hair." The last came out in a rush. I can't believe I just admitted _that_ to _Heero's_ perfectly sculpted pectorals. "Are you an underwear model these days?"

He treated me to another one of _those_ looks. "No, Sir."

"You ought to be."

He blushed again. It made me want to pull him into my lap and cuddle. Shit, this was _Heero_. Even if he was in a leather g-string with a friggin _leash_ attached to his _collar_. Okay, this was nothing short of flat surreal. It was time to end this lil' daydream and wake up with my face in my microwaved TV dinner fake ass mashed potatoes. "Well, I don't want you to get in trouble with Doro or anything. She sounded like Commander Une ragging on someone's ass, if you know what I mean. I've got the early shift tomorrow, so I need to get some shut eye. I'll tell her you were a good slave or whatever you like to be called so you can go on home now."

"Mistress Dorothy wants me to fulfill your fantasy, Sir." Heero sounded absolutely miserable. 

Maybe just a little shower time wouldn't—

"Mistress Dorothy would be pleased if I fulfilled your fantasy, Sir." Mr. Gorgeous Slave Heero peeked up at me through his messy bangs, somewhat hopefully. 

He looked good enough to eat. Dear God, yes, he did.

Maybe if I wore my swim trun—

What in the fuck was I _thinking_? Heero wanted to be my sex slave for the night. And this is a bad thing, why? I thumped myself in the forehead with my palm, to rattle my brains back into this little thing we like to call reality. Slavery was outlawed, for one. For two, I didn't even know this Heero, other than the fact that he still had the best fucking six pack I'd ever seen, bar none. Even better than Wufei's. No! Bad Duo! This Heero was completely at odds with the Heero I'd experienced and he wanted to put his hands in my hair. No one touched the do and lived to tell about it, fantasies fucking aside here.

"Look, uh, Heero, I was just whining. You know, that stupid complaining shit girls do about their hair all the time. It's a bitch to wash, you know? But it's my hair and it's really important to me." I hugged my braid to my chest. "I don't just let people touch it. Ever." More like touch it and draw back a bloody stump. "If I had any idea Doro would do this, I would've kept my mouth shut. I just thought she'd, you know, sympathize."

Oh, no, not the you-just-kicked-my-puppy face. No one could top Heero in the you-just-kicked-my-puppy face. Not even Quatre.

I shoved my hands through my bangs and pulled on my hair just to feel the sting in my scalp. "I dunno why Dorothy did this. She _knows_ how I feel about—" you "—my hair."

"I-I'm sorry, Sir," he said softly. He turned his face away from me, minutely. "I'm not a very good slave."

I blinked. The man had shown up at what he thought was a stranger's apartment dressed like _that_ and knelt there, in public, for however long and he didn't think he was a good slave? "You are a good slave. You did what you were told, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And you're still trying to, right? It's not your fault I'm an uncooperative bastard, is it?"

He looked even more miserable. "No, Sir."

"God, not the kicked puppy face again."

He peeked again, eyes widening. "Kicked puppy face, Sir?"

"You looked like you were a puppy I just kicked. You know, sad and pitiful and innocent and stuff." If he kept it up, he was gonna be in my lap and snuggled. Last time I'd met up with Heero, he put the I'm-gonna-kick-your-fucking-ass in the phrase 'violently anti-snuggle'.

He blinked, holding eye contact with me for once. He had gorgeous eyes. Deep and blue and slanted, like a cat. I could just stare into them all day. He dropped his gaze microscopically and I had to stop myself from ordering him to look at me just so I could melt.

I shifted my weight uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to insult you."

"I wasn't insulted, Sir."

"Then what's with the looking away stuff? What'd I do wrong?"

He looked vaguely horrified.

"Hey, calm down, Heero."

He blinked again. "You can see?" His voice quivered. _Heero's_ voice actually _quivered_. 

I grinned, even though I didn't really feel like it. "Yeah, kinda got to, to be a Preventer."

He shook his head. "No, you can see my expression?"

"Well, yeah. You're doing the deer-in-the-headlights thing."

He furrowed his brow slightly. "Deer?"

"Shock. It's a metaphor."

He faced me fully then, back straight, shoulders square. "Mistress Dorothy says I'm expressionless."

I snorted. "Shya right. She's probably only looking at your dick anyway."

He blushed.

I grinned. "Still kinda shy? Hey, no, I think it's cute, ya know?"

His blush deepened. "She was looking at my face."

"You're not calling me sir."

He visibly flinched and shrank on himself again. "I'm sorry, Sir!"

"Don't sweat it, Heero. I'm not into this master thing. It's freaky enough to see Doro doing it. She might think she's the boss of everything but she's just not master material, y'know?"

The slave didn't say anything. He seemed to be waiting for me to do something, or order him to do something, so I opened my mouth. "How in the hell did _you_ end up being Doro's sex slave?" Well, I hadn't expected _that_ to come out. Yes, I was thinking it, and no, I hadn't planned on asking _him_. I was gonna grill Dorothy.

He looked pained and that war between privacy and obedience started up again. "After Mariemaia, I was Miss Relena's bodyguard for a while, but her security was competent and my presence was causing problems. Mistress Dorothy offered to be my Mistress. I accepted, Sir."

And if that wasn't any help. I yanked at my braid. "So, whattaya do these days? Job? School? Just hanging out?"

"I stay with Mistress Dorothy, Sir."

"That's it."

He ducked his head the teeniest bit. "Yes, Sir."

And to think that Commander Une had been shitting a ring around herself trying to find Heero to hire him on and all this time he'd been right under her nose. "Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of, 'Ro."

The eyes that met mine almost demurely before dropping again were smiling, so I smiled back. The relaxing line of his shoulders told me quite plainly that I'd pleased him. Good.

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you think you're not a good slave? I always thought you were good at anything you wanted to do."

He looked briefly pained. 

"Hey, don't answer if you don't want to."

"I'm gay, Sir."

Well ho-lee shit. Before I knew it, my braid was in my lap and I as wringing its neck to beat the band.

"And," he jerked his head until he was looking almost over his left shoulder. That had to hurt. "And I don't really want to obey, Sir."

"Well obey this one. Quit calling me Sir. Call me _Duo_. Duh-ooo-oh."

"Yes, Sir."

"Heero!" For some ungodly reason, I thought that was absolutely hysterical. I got a smirk for laughing.

Suddenly, Heero turned serious. "Your fantasy, Sir. I am required to fulfill it."

I groaned and dropped against the couch. Not this again. Visions of a naked, wet Heero, his skin sleek and lathered as he massaged— Argh! "I thought we went over this already."

He had that stubborn, mission accepted clench in the jaw. "Mistress Dorothy sent me here to fulfill your fantasy, Sir."

That did it. I may have been all over the idea of a little skin on skin shower action, but _not_ because Dorothy said so. There was only one way to put a stop to this. Other than getting naked and in the shower and all slippery hot and wet with a—argh! I practically jumped across the room to drop down next to the nearest vidphone. 

"Sir?" He looked mildly alarmed.

"Hey, Dorothy, done with the cabbie?" I said brightly.

"You don't look showered."

I rolled my eyes. "Doro, babe, you know the do is sacred. Anyway. He didn't do the hair because I wouldn't let him, but he's been a model, um, _you know_ —"

"Slave." Bitch was laughing at me.

"Yeah, that. He's been an absolute peach."

"Then what's the problem?"

"He's got that whole ninmu ryoukai thing going on about the hair. You know Heero and missions." I shrugged. What can ya do, right? 

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Actually, I don't."

"Oh. Well. He's trying to fill the mission to please you, right, but I don't want him to."

"Is he disobeying you?"

"Well, no."

She suddenly smiled sweetly at me. Sweet and Dorothy go together a lot like Trowa and big game hunters do. "Can I ask you a favor, Duo, my wonderful dear friend?"

I narrowed my eyes.

"You know I'm off to a weekend party with Relena at her country estate."

"Yeah, you made me go _shoe_ shopping with you for the stupid thing. I'm still pissed about that."

"I'll make it up to you, gorgeous, I promise. At any rate, I can't take Heero along, Relena still has this _thing_ for him, you understand, and I don't want to leave him by himself here either." She waved her hand to shut my up. "I know, I know. He's perfectly able to entertain himself, but he really needs someone around to take up the leash."

She said that just to watch me squirm. I know she did. I glared at her. "Yo—"

She smiled even more sweetly at me. "You're a prince, Duo, an absolute _prince_. I'll drop some of his things off tonight and I've got a list of instructions, mostly about proper handling and his diet, for you. I'll be back Tuesday night, at the latest."

"It's Wednesday!"

"And he gives _the_ most divine shiatsu massage. I recommend you try it."

"Dor—" The bitch hung up on me!

I gaped at the blank screen while it all suddenly gelled in my head. My boyhood, might as well admit it, permanent crush, who was currently sitting on my floor almost _naked_ , would be staying with me for a week if Doro had her way. Oh, and leave us not forget that my utterly gorgeous crush was also a _sex_ slave on loan to _me_ and _gay_ and wanted to fulfill my fantasies. In the shower. _Naked_.

I didn't know whether to cry or jack off.


	2. The God of Death Is Not a Wussy Romantic

We were staring at each other blankly when Dorothy deigned to show up. Okay, so he was staring at his feet and I was doing my best _not_ to stare at his chest. I just wanted to press my cheek to his sternum, then rub my nose along the line of his pec, then brush my lips over his—bad Duo! Bad, bad, bad!

Anyway, my hot chick in red latex came bearing Heero's stuff. I don't know about anyone else, but when I think sleepover, I think of things like duffel bags, pajamas, toothbrushes, a sleeping bag, a change of clothes or two, a whoopee cushion, extra underpants (just in case), and teddy bear. Maybe movies and some popcorn. Dorothy brought over a long metal case that you use to take rifles with you on shuttles, a Golden Retriever sized dog pillow, a bag of sushi, and a typed set of instructions about his daily routine, how and when to feed him, a list of punishments, and what to reward good behavior with. I admit it, I turned five shades of red when I read the part where I could reward him for being a good boy by letting him give me a blowjob. 

Dorothy chattered on, blithely opening the rifle case and fondling whatever was inside of it. I didn't hear any of it. All I could see was the word blowjob and Heero's intense blue eyes and Heero's lips and the word blowjob and suddenly I really, _really_ needed a blo—uh, a drink of water. I ignored the long black thing she waved in the air, staggered into the kitchen, and made myself the coldest glass of ice water I could manage. Leaning against the counter so I could both look into the living room and keep my lower abdominal area out of sight, I fished an ice cube out of my glass. Heero, still sitting patiently by the chair, offered me a shy smile. Those lips slowly curved like a reward for being alive which was just as good as the reward of a blowjob. I thought about dropping the ice cube into my shorts where it would do some good.

"And I'll have my phone with me if there's a problem. Slave, you behave for Duo. Good boy." She patted him on the head. _Patted_ him. Like a dog. I would have slugged her. Heero simply bowed his head.

"You know," I said when she wiggled her fingers at us and slammed the door behind her, "I just don't trust her."

Heero made eye contact with my chest, but didn't say anything.

I sipped some more water and looked at the door until my boner went down. Once it was safe, well, once the front of my pants didn't look like a tipi, I sauntered as casually as possible over to the rifle case. There was a small shaving kit bag that contained necessary man implements like razors and nail clippers. That's where the similarities to my overnight back ended. For one, there weren't any clothes. None, zilch, zip, nada. Not even a change of g-string. There were long things, leather things, metal things, lube things, an assortment of stuff to stick in your ass. Okay, now I was giggling in addition to doing my tomato impression. I looked like Quatre whenever anyone mentioned Trowa and naked in the same sentence or a 13 year old girl at a boy band concert. Heero must think I'm an idiot.

I shifted a whip thingy out of the way and tugged a studded leather strap doohickey out from beneath a thick gundanium bar. It had a long, somewhat rigid strap that had some small D-rings hanging on it and four shortish straps at even intervals. Apparently they snapped together somehow. I frowned. A wrist brace? What in the hell for?

"That's a cock harness, sir."

"A what?"

"Cock harness. You put it on my cock, sir."

I blinked stupidly at him and then at the leather thing in my hand. It suddenly and abruptly dawned on me that this leather _thing_ in my hand had been intimately acquainted with Heero's cock. I was touching a thing that had been on _Heero's cock_. Oh. My. God.

I'm not ashamed to say that I squealed like a girl when I dropped the thing and slammed the lid shut on the rifle case out of sheer embarrassment because it made Heero do the most wonderful thing. He laughed. You know, the happy kind of laugh that fills the whole room with this feeling of _joy_ , not the creepy I really like stepping on you with my gundam laugh he used to do all the time. With his eyes still sparkling and a smile still playing around his lips, he looked me directly in the eyes and said, "You weren't paying attention when Mistress Dorothy briefed you, were you?"

"Duh." I rolled my eyes. "You know that woman is a complete psycho. I'm not just talking this stuff here." I pointed emphatically at the case full of hot chick in red latex implements just so there'd be no mistake. "She blackmails me into stupid shoe shopping expeditions that last six freaking hours and she has to hit most of the stores at least twice! I'm not doing it again. I'll just live with a week long justice rant."

"Justice rant?"

"Yeah, she keeps threatening to tell Wufei about a few of my more, shall we say, _interesting_ activities that involve some of his, shall we say, _personal_ belongings." I frowned and tipped my head to the left. "Did Psycho Dotty tell you anything about the rest of us?"

He nodded. "I am permitted to exchange email with Trowa; he's still with the circus and stays with Quatre when it winters. He doesn't know where I am or about _this_." He tugged at his leash. "I knew that Quatre works in Preventer administration. Wufei is a Preventer, but I didn't know anything new about you until a few months ago when she told me you'd moved here from L2. Alone." He blushed—God he was so cute when he did that—and dropped his eyes. "You were with Hilde when I moved in with Mistress Dorothy. She didn't tell me anything else."

I grinned. "I like to tell people that I moved here out of pity for Wufei, and that's kinda true, but after the third fist fight Mark, that's Hilde's hubby-pooh, picked with me, I sold her my bit of the yard. I came here because I missed you guys and I didn't have anything to keep me on L2 and Wufei really _did_ need a partner so here I am. I was surprised when Doro showed up at the shuttle port instead of one of you guys, but I'm kinda glad she did. She's been a good friend for a psycho, other than the shoe shopping safaris."

"I thought Sally was Wufei's partner." 

I wish I'da been there for this one. "She was, for a while. She put up with the woman this and weakling that and the rants okay, but he got into a serious snit when she told him that he had issues and needed to take an anger management course if he was ever going to get past his terminal dickhead disease. They had a big fight in the office not long after that. You know how Mr. Snippy gets when he's pouting. They got into a big screaming match. Sally informed him that she wouldn't work with him if he were the last hope for peacekeeping in the solar system and being his partner was the only way to keep the zombified corpses of Barton, Dermail, Khushrenada, _and_ Zechs Merquise from rising up and taking over the Earth sphere again. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't've stuck his nose all up in the air and informed her that Zechs Merquise was quite alive and well and makes a mean omelette, thank you very much, and therefore couldn't be a zombified corpse, you idiot woman."

Heero started snickering. Okay, maybe not _snickering_ per se _snickering_ like everyone else did snickering. His eyes kind of got this extra brightness in the blue that I labeled "Heero-giggles" a long time ago. He'd so kick my ass if he knew about that.

"She knocked his ass out cold. She's got a gorgeous left hook. I, uh, appropriated the footage from security if you wanna see." I use a montage of stills from it as screensaver. "Anyway, he went through a bunch of partners after her. He put a few in the hospital, was the direct cause of three letters of resignation, and one of them blamed him for a stint in the looney bin. I never had a problem with him. Even though Une told him that he couldn't change partners unless he actually found someone willing to put up with him, he still puts in a request for a new partner at least once a week." He's just pranking Une, of course. Wufei adores the hell out of me. "You wanna know what just kills me? They started dating casually a couple of weeks ago."

Heero smirked and shook his head. 

"Anyway. You hungry? I'm starved. I know this great place down the block tha—" To say that he looked less than enthused at my suggestion was like saying that Quatre had a mild tendency to blame himself a little for every bad thing that ever happened. "What?"

"I don't have any clothing, Sir."

Oh. 

"And, well...." He tugged on the collar. 

"I, uh, see. Delivery? I got all the best places on speed dial. Whatcha in the mood for? Pizza? Chinese? Italian? Subs? Burgers? Ribs? Japanese?" God damn was I ever in the mood for something Japanese. And mostly _naked_. 

He smirked at me, though I couldn't figure out what I'd said that was so damned funny. "I'd like something American if it's all right with you, Sir."

I squinted at him, but couldn't detect anything in his smirk. What did that mean? Did he mean that he wanted a Hawaiian style pizza? I hate pineapple on my pizza. Or worse, California style pizza. Whoever thought of putting artichokes on pizza needs to be taken out and shot. Repeatedly. Preferably with a buster rifle. Or would that defeat the purpose of shooting repeatedly? I put a bright smile on. "American, sure! Hawaiian Pizza? Or would you like burgers? Meatloaf?"

He grunted and dropped his eyes to the floor before I could get a good read on his expression. "Whatever you'd like is fine, Sir."

"An answer would be nice. I don't talk just to hear myself talk you know." I frowned at him when he choked. "Well, maybe I do, but I don't ask _your_ opinion just to blow hot air. I asked your opinion because I actually _wanted_ your opinion. If I wanted my opinion, I'd've just asked myself. Hey, Duo, what would you like for dinner, gorgeous? Oh, I don't know, Duo, you handsome devil, something edible and with beef. Great, Duo! I like that suggestion. But no, I asked _you_ , not me."

"Duo." Now that sounded more like the Heero "I Got an Itchy Trigger Finger" Yuy that we all know and love. "I'm the slave. You're the master. That means _you_ make the decisions and I comply with them."

"Fine, then I order you to tell me what the hell you want to eat for dinner."

He glared at me. "Pizza with the works."

I glared back at him. "You _hate_ pepperoni!" The uncultured slug.

He was still glaring, but his bottom lip had curved out a little and he looked more like a pouting little boy than a grown man at the moment. You would not believe how cute he looked doing that. I just about gave in. Just about. There was no way in _hell_ I was going to make him eat things he didn't like to please me.

"Fine." I smirked. "We'll have takoyaki."

I absolutely _hated_ takoyaki and Heero knew it 'cause the one time I tried it, it ended up all over his lap after its return trip. Unlike most things, it tasted better the second time around. Just the thought of anything with octopus in it makes me queasy as hell. It's that narrow slab of rubbery looking flesh that's all pale and sickly looking with those _things_ , those, _eww_ , suckers on it; it looks kind of like Dr. G's nose when his allergies are running. Eww. Moreover, Heero couldn't stand it either. He glowered. Check and mate, baby! I probably would have enjoyed the frustrated expression that he gets when he loses if I hadn't been busy turning green and plotting a graceful way to make a trip to the porcelain god.

"Mexican. Mistress Dorothy doesn't care for it so I haven't had it in a while."

I beamed at him. It occurred to me, quite forcefully, that I could reward him for being a good boy about giving his opinion by letting him give me a blowjob. Trying not to blush like an idiot, I scuttled over to the vidphone and ordered food. I'm pretty sure that I said blowjob instead of enchilada—hey, they kinda sound the same—but I didn't think I had enough blood in my system to blush any harder than I already was.

While we waited for the delivery, I stowed Heero's, uh, _gear_ , in the closet where I planned on leaving it, unmolested, until such time as Dorothy came to collect it, from the closet, by herself, so I'd never have to look at it again. I am not ashamed to admit that I'm not a fetishist. It sounds better than squeamish, I mean, the God of Death, _squeamish_? Over a little bit of leather bondage gear? You bet your ass! Ha, you get locked up by a buncha sub-human monster rejects masquerading as Oz prison guards and see how into whips and chains _you_ get. If I ever see Une with a riding crop again, I'll pee my pants. Not that the whole notion of Une and sex of any kind doesn't make me feel like I've gotten a mouthful of raw octopus. Ugh. Moving right along. My idea of bondage is silk scarves and my idea of torture revolves around rose petals, feathers, and a lot of kissing. Not that I'd ever admit any of this to anyone. The God of Death has a certain reputation as a total badass to maintain, mind you.

Heero was practically grinning at me when I turned around. I fixed him with a death glare that'd do even him at his quit fucking up my mission best a run for his money. Bastard fucking giggled. 

"I'm _not_ squeamish!" 

He smiled. "Of course not, sir."

It is fucking hard—is it _ever_ fucking hard—er, scratch that. Make it damned difficult. Yeah. It's damned difficult to maintain the proper level of pique with Heero when Heero is almost naked and smiling at you. Fucking hard isn't that far off from an accurate description of the state of affairs inside my shorts. A quick, well, certainly not a lengthy enough glance downward proved that fucking hard was coming close to describing the state of affairs inside Heero's, uh, pouch as well. Either that or he lined it with something to make it stick out like that. And let me tell you true, that was a nicely lined pouch. Was that what I thought it was? Sticking up a little bit over the top? Was—oh my God. Okay, first order of business, clothes for Heero or he'd end up being the meat in my taco before he could get out the hot sauce.

Ripping my eyes away—I needed a crowbar—I forced myself to go into my bedroom and find a pair of pajamas that Quatre had gotten me for Kwanza—don't ask, I didn't get it either. They were the ugliest set of PJs to ever grace the face of the earth and most of the colonies. Except this one colony in the L1 cluster where everyone is entirely too weird for words. I think I hid them under the bed. Yup! Operation Make Heero Into Less of a Sex God So My Dick Will Go Down was well under way. Or would have been. Heero objected.

"It pleases you to see me like this, sir," he said and glowered at the pajamas as if they were created solely for the purpose of mortally offending him.

"It would please me more to see you in this!" Not really, actually, not at all, but I needed to think with the head that was attached to a yard and a half of braid. Yeah. Thinking with the big head and big picture rather than blowing it with rampaging hormones would please me very much.

His eyes latched on to the center of my body and my boner twitched, like it was waving hello, here I am, come and give me a blowjob! I put the pajamas in front of me and blushed nine shades of red. _See?_ his eyes said. _You want me!_

"It's an involuntary reaction." I respected him way too much to take advantage of him like that, dammit. And, well, I had um, some of that, um, emotional type stuff going on and let's not forget to mention my pride. If I was going to have Heero it would be because he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Anything else would just hurt too much. And it wouldn't be right. I wasn't Relena to think that even though he didn't love me, I loved him enough for the both of us and dive right in to take advantage of him in his obviously weakened state. Oh shut up. The God of Death is _not_ a wussy romantic!

He was smirking now. "I think that it pleases you very, hn, _nicely_ to see me like this, sir."

Did he just say I had a nice dick? Well, he did say that he was gay and maybe a little—no! God, Duo, you ass, that was just lower than low. I hit him in the face with the PJs. "Just put 'em on, Heero."

He must have figured out I meant business because he sighed a little bit, then stood up. Next thing I know he shucks off his g-string and I'm getting an eyeful of Heero God _damn_ Yuy in all of his glory and I do mean _glory_. I whipped around so fast my braid smacked me in the face. I said something, hope to God it was nothing about blowjobs, and beat feet for the bathroom where I promptly locked myself in and hid in the bathtub. I'm talking hide like Mike Stallion, Agent Magnum of my fave vid show _Preventers: Black Ops_ getting his ass shot at by a couple of full autos complete with tracer rounds hide.

Oh my God. Heero was. He was. Oh my God. The front of my jeans had my erection bent at a funny angle, but I was too busy hyperventilating about Heero being completely and gloriously _naked_ to notice that I was trying to break my dick in half.

"Master?" Heero called, then knocked on the door. "Are you all right?"

 _Master?!_ Talk about your instant boner-killer. "I'm fine. And my name is Duo!"

"Master Duo, the pants have ripped."  
Freaking fabulous. He was probably still completely and gloriously _naked_. Well, hello Mr. Erection, it's _ever_ so pleasant to see you again when you're completely not wanted. "Just find something in my closet!"

There was a pause on the other side of the door and I took advantage of the quiet to very carefully rearrange things without the primer setting the charge off, if you know what I mean. 

"Wouldn't you like to choose something that you'd like to see me in, Master Duo?"

Dark chocolate colored silk pajama bottoms—the pair I kept stashed in the top of my closet just 'cause they were the same color as his hair—and that you know you want me smirk of—No! Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! I sank my fingers into my hair and tried to rip it out by its roots to restore a little sanity. "Anything is fine!"

"Master Duo, are you all right? What would you like me to wear for you?"

"Just go pick something out and put it on, whatever is just fine." C'mon, Heero, just go do it before I do something we'll both fucking regret and you hate me forever when you come to your fucking senses.

"But—"

That was it. I couldn't take it anymore. "Goddammit, Heero! Just go and fucking pick something out and put it fucking on!"

Dead silence for a moment, then a very subdued, "Yes, Master," and footsteps padding toward my bedroom.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall. I don't think I'd ever felt this frustrated in my entire life, not even when that rat bastard G explained Operation Meteor to me in full and I realized that in order to keep 'Scythe, I'd have to help murder everyone on the planet. My best friend and the man I'd secretly loved for forever was calling me master. He was offering me everything I would have jumped at a few years ago, when I had more hormones than brain cells, but I couldn't take it because it wasn't right. I didn't know this Heero. I didn't even _like_ this Heero. Well, that's not fair, or really true. I didn't like the way this Heero made me feel. I didn't like the subservience. I _hated_ it. God, it was like Dr. J ordering him to self-destruct all over again and then watching him push the fucking button. 

I wanted _my_ Heero back. My partner. I wanted the Heero that broke me out of prison instead of shooting me. I wanted the Heero that saved Relena's fluffy pink ass instead of assassinating her—after I beat some sense into that Heero's head for not shooting her at least a little bit. I wanted the Heero that saved the earth and the colonies. I wanted the Heero that told everyone from Treize Khushrenada right on down to frumpy prep school boys to kiss his spandexed ass. Maybe I never would have gotten to see that Heero completely naked and maybe I never would have had the opportunity to order up a _blowjob_ , for crying in the beer, from that Heero, but that Heero was my friend. This Heero, well, this Heero wasn't really Heero to me. He was just acting too wrong. I would _never_ let this Heero wash my hair. The one that called me baka, well—

The doorbell. Thank God. New plan. Get food. Eat food. Get blanket and pillow for Heero. Set him up on the couch. Hand him the vid remote. Barricade self in room. Go straight to sleep. Get up and go directly to work. Go home with Wufei and his boner-killing lectures on proper decorum for a Preventer agent. 

"I'll get it!" I yelled and charged the front door. 

"Master?"

I ignored the voice coming from the bedroom and threw the door open with a wide grin fixed firmly on my face. One cute Spanish girl stood under mounds of take out boxes. Now to get her out of here before a stubbornly _naked_ Heero decided to come up front and argue with me about putting pants on some more. "Jacinta! Baby!"

She grinned back at me. "Hey, Mr. Duo. Kind of hungry tonight or were you finally gonna invite me in and share..." Her mouth dropped open and her eyes got very, very wide. "Madre de Dios!"

I looked over my shoulder and my eyes got very, very wide, too. "Holy God."

Heero's leash was gone, but the collar was still there. So was a pair of my jeans that were worn threadbare in the rump and knees. And what those jeans did for the rippling expanse of golden skin over those flexing and bunching muscles in his chest should come with a mature audiences only warning sticker and an optional post-orgasm cigarette. His eyes were narrowed and firmly locked on Jacinta with the old don't fuck with my mission glare of his as he stalked toward the door. Okay, yeah, I've seen him half naked before, but never like this. Never so predatory, like a tiger or a wolf. He was like a walking wet dream.

Jacinta almost dropped our food when Heero padded to a halt behind me. There was a brief moment when I'm pretty sure Heero was the only person actually breathing before he slid his arms around my waist and nuzzled his face in my neck. "Master Duo has company," he growled. "Company that _doesn't_ share." And then he licked me. He fucking _licked_ me. Right along the throat where I either had no pulse or too much pulse and oh my fucking God I was going to melt into a puddle of frustration and satisfaction right there on his feet with Jacinta watching the whole thing with her mouth wide open and her eyes so big they were gonna fall out of their sockets.

"Uh," Jacinta squeaked. "Mr. Maxwell, your, uh food." She thrust it forward and just about dropped it again because she wasn't taking her eyes off of Heero at all. I somehow saved the cartons from certain disaster all over my cheap, apartment brown carpet. Just call me Libido-Run-Amuck-Man, savior of Mexican delivery food everywhere.

Somehow, despite Heero's breath warming my collarbones and the sudden inability of my brain cells to pull together as a team, I managed to dig the creds out of my pocket and pass them over the Jacinta. She stammered out a gracias from halfway down the hall. Heero gently tugged me backward and shut the door. After he locked it, he took our dinner from my arms and carried it to the table. 

I, the brilliant genius and suave man that I am, blinked at the door like a moron. What in the fuck just happened? I pinched myself. I did it again, harder. I was awake. Why in the hell did Heero just terrorize the delivery girl? And why did he _lick_ me? And did he have to scare the hell out of Jacinta? And if he scared Jacinta that bad, would they deliver here again? Manny's made the best Mexican in town!

Slowly, because I really didn't know if I wanted to know, I turned around and ambled over to where Heero was quietly setting the table. "Uh, Heero, what was that all about?"

His eyes flicked in my direction, closed off as only the Perfect Soldier can close them off, then he returned his attention to aligning my mismatched silverware perfectly.

"C'mon, Heero, you can tell me."

His jaw twitched and I almost expected a grumpy "shut up, baka" snarled in my general direction.

I frowned when he did nothing other than shift one of three forks minutely to the left. "Heero."

"Dorothy said that you weren't involved."

What? "Huh?"

His jaw twitched again. "I was under the impression that you weren't involved with anyone."

"You mean Jacinta?" 

His lips compressed and gave the single place setting a glare that should have shattered the plastic plate. "She seemed...nice."

I blinked. Then I did it again. What the hell? "I'm not involved with anyone. I just like to flirt."

He didn't relax any, instead he opened up the food cartons, then pulled back the chair in front of the place setting. "Sit, Master."

I crossed my arms over my chest.

He glared at me.

I lifted my chin and jutted my jaw out stubbornly.  
He gave me a look of acute frustration that I hadn't seen since he first realized that even his worst death glare and most dangerous sounding omae o korosus couldn't shut me up.

Unaccountably satisfied with that, I seated myself in a chair to the left of the place setting and yanked the box of tacos over. You ever make it to Brussels, you have _got_ to try Manny's. He makes his own tortillas and they are to fucking die for. Well, to kill for at the very least. The next thing I know, the box is yanked away before I can get my mitts on one of those luscious lovelies, my chair is twirled forty five degrees, and Heero Yuy is straddling my lap. Before I can shut my gaping mouth, Heero says, "You're my Master and I'm going to feed you," in a tone that distinctly says, "and you'd better cooperate or omae o korosu, goddammit!!" Okay, so I added the goddammit part myself because Heero'd never say it, but, c'mon, you know he's gotta be thinking it.

There is just no way in hell to erotically feed a taco to another human being.

I'm sitting there, trying not to giggle around a quarter of a taco while the rest of it hits what little room he's left on my lap for messy taco bits, while he's trying to keep that I'm going to have to use the nearest weapon of mass destruction on you if things don't start going my way immediately look off of his face. Quatre thinks I'm insane, but I think Heero looks really cute when he's all Duocidal like that.

I swallowed the bite I managed to get while he's trying to fish the taco parts from my pants. "C'mon Heero, I can feed myself. You gotta eat too, buddy."

He smirked at me again. I'm starting to really not like that smirk. I swear he's trailing the edge of the taco shell up my dick. "I'm going to eat my dinner off of your lap with my tongue, Master." 

If he hadn't a been sitting on my lap, I would have been doing my Mike Stallion, Agent Magnum taking cover in the bathtub impression again because that was the only way I was gonna be able to maintain the sanity and the willpower to not take advantage of what Heero would never offer if he'd been in his right mind. I should mention, at this point, that my jeans were way too tight. And I'm pretty sure he knew it. I mean, he couldn't miss it since he'd decided to start fucking _squeezing_ the damned thing. With his _fingers_. Don't ask me how, but suddenly he was on his ass on the floor and I was halfway across the apartment, ducking behind the couch.

He stood up and stalked toward me. "I know you want me, Master," he purred. He fucking _purred_ as if he wasn't sexy enough as it was! "And I want you."

Then he pounced.

He had me flat on my back, one hand tangled in my braid, the other one sliding inside of my shirt. I opened my mouth, I'm pretty sure I was going to protest, or maybe moan, or maybe beg for more, maybe it was just to whimper. I'm going with C, if you don't know the answer, it's always C on multiple guess tests. Right before I could beg for more, he slides he tongue inside of me. _Inside_ of me. Of _me_. Heero Yuy stuck his tongue inside of me. Heero's _tongue_ was in _me_. I could now die a happy man because my life was fucking complete.

I couldn't help it. My hormones overpowered my last working brain cell and I just melted into him. Right there on my floor behind the couch. His tongue tangled with mine and spread this heat and this wetness through my whole body that was kind of like getting set on fire with starlight. If that makes any sense at all. I moaned into him and did something I'd enjoyed during quite a few nocturnal emissions: I sank my fingers into his hair and palmed his butt cheek. Nirvana, heaven, the Elysium Fields, Valhalla, the Happy Hunting Grounds, none of them can come close to the feel of Heero's thick hair and Heero's perfectly engineered butt cheek. If they weren't enough to get me to cream my pants, the taste of his mouth could just about get me there. 

We'd just started a slow grind where button fly met zipper when the vidphone went off. Heero solved the problem by licking my tonsils. I had no idea that Heero could make a vidphone stop ringing just by sliding his tongue along the roof of my mouth. 

"Maxwell!" Wufei bellowed.

I jerked and would have bit Heero if he hadn't lifted his head to give a Glare o' Instant Death to the vidphone.

"I know you're there, you idiot! Answer the phone!" Wow, he sounded _Pissed_. Not just pissed, but _Pissed_. I wondered if he'd finally got around to discovering what I'd done to the ringer on his cell phone. "Maxwell! Answer!"

Heero had apparently decided that the wad Wufei had twisted his panties into wasn't all that important because he dropped his mouth back down to mine again. It was too late, though. A pissed off Wufei could kill a good hard on almost as fast as Une on the rag could. He's got this little high-pitched sort of whine, like Relena when she's howling for Heero, playing around in his voice when he gets uber-pissed that grates on the nerves. But don't tell him unless you don't mind being spitted on a katana. He's a little uptight that way.

"Maxwell, quit fooling around and answer the phone!" 

I squeezed out from under Heero and dropped into the seat in front of the phone. I briefly considered running like hell instead, before I could let things get all out of control with Heero again and do something he'd hate me for once he was out from under Dorothy the Spawn of Satan's influence. I pushed the button and Wufei's smiling face glared at me.

Heero knelt on the floor and glared at me. I'd give that one a 7.9 out of 10. Wufei was suckin' at a 6.4.

"Heya, Wufei. What's up?"

Woah. Now _that_ was a 9.6 glare on Wufei now. Anything over an 8.5 was invariably Zechs's fault. "That, that _woman_ , Po, deliberately wrecked my car. I will need a ride to work in the morning. You had better not make me late, Maxwell, or I will make certain that you regret it."  
"Why'd she wreck your car?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his wall. "That is none of your affair. Be here by 0630."

"What'd ya do? Tell her Zechs kisses better? Or did you accidentally call out his name during a moment of passion?"

He was back a 6.4 glare. See, I told you he adores me. "It's hardly my fault that Zechs is a superb shot and she is not."

Notice he didn't deny anything.

"And I've done none of those _things_ you accuse me of. You will cease speculating on my love life, Maxwell. It's unbecoming. Don't forget, be here _by_ 0630\. Not five minutes after, not fifteen minutes after, not even one minute after. 0630 or earlier."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll see ya, tomorrow."

Wufei gave me a suspicious look, then stabbed the disconnect button on his vidphone. 

I leaned back in my chair while Heero glared at my vidphone with intent to dismantle. I covered my face with my hands and took a deep, long breath. Wufei, of all people, had just saved me from Heero's kisses. At the moment, most of me could have cheerfully strangled Wu while the few working brain cells that weren't yelling "clear!" and using defillibration paddles on the rest of me brain cells that my hormones had choked were breathing a healthy sigh of relief. I so needed to get my brain cells a set of Mike Stallion's pistols. They not only never ran out of ammo, they could hit a target through three feet of gundanium. No more hostile takeover by the Hormone Alliance. 

Heero slowly crossed the room on his knees and my libido was all over it before I could find a stick to beat it back with. He rubbed his cheek against my thigh like a big, affectionate cat. "Master."

I closed my eyes and tried not to breathe in the Heero scented air so I could remember that right now he had two options, _Mistress_ Spotty Dotty the Psycho or me. Considering that he was _gay_ that kind of cut his options down to one. Not only was that not very flattering—though my libido seriously did not care—it wasn't right. 

Pushing the chair back, I stood up and managed to escape his clutches long enough to get to the table. "Well, you heard the man. I gotta get up at an obscene time in the morning. You know, if God wanted me to witness the sunrise, he would have made me a rooster. You mind taking the couch? It folds out into one of them bed things so it's not too bad. Hilde used it last so it's clean. You know, she really brought Mark to heel; man doesn't even fart in his own home anymore. That's just low. A man should be able make any bodily noises he wants to in his own home. And scratch his balls."

Heero trailed me to the table, but he was giving me one of _those_ looks again so I figured it was safe to assume I wouldn't get a repeat of the lap incident. 

"Hey, help yourself to some chow, buddy. I've gotta microwave if you wanna reheat it or anything. I think my milk has chunks in it, so you might want to skip the hot sauce if you're like me. Hey, you should go with me to work. Une's been practically in heat to get you to work for Preventers." Now that was a good idea. If he could get a job somewhere, you know, and be a real person again, then I could see if he'd like to maybe date me. 

"I don't want them to know where I am, yet, Master. I just want to stay with you for a while." His eyes gleamed. "I want to sleep in your bed. With you."

Visions of Heero's naked, sweaty body wrapped up in my naked, sweaty body swamped me before I could jump that mental ship and I choked on my taco. Before I could properly appreciate the distraction choking on a taco supplied, Heero was behind me, wrapping his arms around me and giving me the Heimlich Maneuver. My taco bite went flying and I quit choking. I was thinking that not only was this breathing stuff a good thing, but Heero doesn't know his own strength right before my eyes rolled up into my head and I passed the hell out.


	3. A Few Princess Relena Barbies Shy of the Dreamhouse

I started to come to, half expecting my face to be bouncing off of Tro's ass as he carried me off to the brig with my butt staring at the ceiling. Heero, that fucker, never pulled his goddamned punches enough. Trying not to groan because groaning involved greater use of my diaphragm than I wanted any truck with, I wrapped my arms around my middle because, Jesus God, it fucking hurt. I was suddenly aware of two things, one, I had gotten a lot wider since the last time I'd touched my belly, and two, my belly was full of long, hard muscle instead of the six-pack ridges I'm understandably proud of (in your _face_ Wu!), was very warm, and wasn't wearing a shirt like the rest of me. 

That heat I was feeling on my face, well, I didn't think it was Tro's ass.

I had a couple of choices, as I saw it. I could keep my eyes closed and pretend that nothing bad was going on, just a nine year old Khushy pulling a Napoleon and my ass getting happily shot at while some moron tries to drop a colony on the planet. While he was on the planet. Ol' Dekim was a few Princess Relena Barbies and one Barbie Dream 'Vette shy of his Dreamhouse. I'm sorry, I don't give a fuck what kind of happy box you plant yourself in the ground in, if you drop a colony on the planet, the cockroaches aren't going to be able to thank you in person when they assume the throne you'd planned on taking for yourself. Hello, dummy. Where was I. Oh, right. Option two was to open my eyes and pretend that there was nothing untoward happening. You know, like a half naked Heero casually lounging on top of me. Half naked. You know, the kind of naked where there's an awful lot of skin showing. Color me insane, but option one was looking pretty damned attractive to my big head. My little head, the traitor, was nuzzling up against Heero's thigh. At least I hoped it was a thigh.

"Duo?"

I squeezed my eyes tighter. Tro's ass. Dekim's haircut. Flying the 'Scythe.

Something warm curved around my cheek. "Duo? Are you okay? Talk to me or I'm taking you to the ER."

"I'm fine!" My eyes flew open and all I could see were Heero's eyes and a little bit of his brows. They were so big, this close, and blue. I had no idea there was so much depth to that blue. And look at the different colors that set it off, those, whattaya call 'em, striations? They were black and green and blue and a was that maybe a little bit of purple?

"...okay?"

"Huhm?" I hoped my voice wasn't nearly as dreamy as it sounded. His brows knit together, drawing downward and hiding a bit of those gorgeous irises. I put my thumbs and forefingers on his eyelids and pried them wider without thinking that, yeah, he was going to put some pain on my body for taking such liberties. "Hey, I was looking at those!"

Despite my fingers propping his eyelids open, he blinked and his brows slid even farther south, then they relaxed. There. Perfect! I could see the whole thing again. Yes, it was! A little bit of purple hiding amongst the rich blues in his irises. Just a little bit. Like he had a little bit of me in his eyes. Something about the way the blue warmed up, kind of like the feel of swimming in the Caribbean on a late, summer afternoon, clued me in that he was smiling at me somehow. His lips brushed mine and his forehead dropped down to rest on mine, but that didn't matter because he was smiling and it kind of made the blue twinkle a little, like when the sunlight stretches across the waves first thing in the morning.

"I want to sleep with you," he murmured against my mouth. I got Wufei drunk once—to this day he still has no idea exactly what's in Irish coffee, so don't tell him because I really want to keep my whole braid attached to my head—and he went on and on about Zechs's voice until he passed out on his desk. Yeah, Zechsy has a champagne flavored phone sex voice, but it ain't got _nothing_ on Heero's. Zechs's voice could send a little shiver down your spine and make your cock tingle. "I want to sleep with you, like this." Heero's voice could make everything inside of you heat up and throb, especially when it sounded all soft and gooey like that, like it was coming from somewhere in the middle of him where it was always warm and safe. "Just like this."

I could really get into this, myself. The never leave bed again kind of getting into this. Sinking my fingers into his hair, I petted him; not the Psycho Doro good puppy petting, but the kind of long, slow strokes with your fingers against the scalp petting. Quatre pets Trowa like that when he thinks Tro is too tired to notice it. Don't tell anyone, but Tro purrs just like one of his lions when Quatre pets him. I wanted to close my eyes and just savor the entire Heero sensation but I just couldn't give up the view of the prettiest blue in the world. So I kept my eyes open and just looked. I can't even begin to tell you how blue his eyes are. They're the bluest blue in the whole universe. They're, like, the epitome of what blue is supposed to be. Next time I go to war, I'm gonna strip down and paint my body blue, exactly that color of blue, because it's all the blues that are Heero. You know, like war and peace and strife and victory and pain and compassion and battle and strength and gentle and washing my hair.

Heero slowly rubbed his nose back and forth over mine. "Forever."

My fingers trailed down the downy soft hairs that got progressively shorter the closer I got to his nape. They tickled and tingled, then touched leather. Forever. Nothing lasts forever. Especially fantasies. Tugging on the collar to remind myself that it was real and this whole little lovenest thing I had going on in my head was not, I decided that I had to pee. "Lemme up."

He pulled back a bit, his eyes narrowing just a little, but still smiling.

"Lemme up, Heero, I gotta pee." I shoved on his shoulder for good measure.

He frowned down at me. "That's not very romantic."

"You might want to think about what's in the direct line of fire, here."

He smirked slightly and very slowly rubbed his groin against mine. "You can't pee with an erection."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe _you_ can't."

"I can help you with it," Heero said then slipped his tongue along my lips. Oh yeah, he could help. A lot. God could he. "Master."

Or maybe not. Maybe I should clue Heero in that the word "master" coming from his lips was instant turn off. Like the All Nutty All Scientist All Naked Revue doing the Can Can instant turn off. And then he wouldn't say it at the exact wrong moment and then I would be at his sexual mercy and that is supposed to be a bad thing. It's a bad thing. And speaking of the Freaky Five, bye bye boner. Well, O didn't really have that bad of a body. Shit, now I _know_ I'm insane. I've got a half naked Heero grinding here, and I'm thinking about O? Can you say, O my God? O, how stupid? O, I gotta pee? O hell, now I'm giggling. 

"Master?"

O!

I exploded with laughter. Heero pushed himself up to get the wide angle view and glared at me.

"Master?"

"O!" I managed to curl up, howling over this. "O, I'm gonna pee! Get off!"

Looking, well, I couldn't tell what sort of expression Heero had on his face because I couldn't see past my tears of hey, look, I'm a moron laughter. Heero rolled off, probably horrified. I'd be horrified if he was going to pee on me. I barely made it to the commode in time and I could barely stand up on my own. I tried to stop laughing because, let's face it, you can't aim accurately and giggle. To top that off, when you're giggling, the jerking diaphragm does some interesting things to the, let's just call it consistency of the beam from the ol' beam cannon, if you know what I mean.

Heero leaned against the door jamb, frowning at me. "Master—"

"O." You gotta know by now that I'm incorrigible.

He rolled his eyes at me. Honest to God. "You're laughing at me."

That killed my urge to laugh deader than roadkill. I hadn't heard that particular tone from him since he set his own broken leg. "No, I wasn't. I was thinking about master and that got me to thinking about the freaky five and how disgusting they all were and then I thought that, for a weirdo, O didn't really have that bad of a body, which was just wrong. On so many levels. But then you said master right then and blam. O."

He glared.

"You mind? Pissing isn't a public event, you know."

"Fine, _Sir_." He whipped around and stomped off to the living room. What the hell crawled up his ass and died?

After a shake and a wipe and judicious use of a rag and the scrubby bubbly spray—this is why I don't keep joke books in the john—I decided that I'd better make my guest comfy. Miss Hospitality I ain't, but hell, I liked Heero. A lot. I'm talking the kind of a lot that's usually prominently featured in dreams that make the sheets sticky. Down, boy. I'm a guy, you know. We think with our dicks; it's what we do. Some geek actually did a study—you got to wonder if the government forked out the cash for it—and found out that guys, on average, think of sex every eight seconds. Heero has a way of putting me ahead—snigger—of the national average. 

I found a clean pillow and a couple of blankets in the shelved closet off the bathroom, which is strange because I usually keep more important stuff, like porn, in there. This is why I _never_ let women do my laundry; they put it away in the most fucked up places. Not that you can stop Hilde with anything less than Scythe's gundanium hand when she's on one of those help poor Duo be less than a total heathen bachelor so he doesn't have to suffer in the hell of the eternally damned testosterone poisoned environment crusades of hers.

Heero was sitting at the table, which had been cleared and wiped off. God, he looked fifteen again. All he needed was spandex, a green tank top, and the yellow sneaks that Relena had once called me up expressly to bitch about for forty five minutes. I kinda liked 'em. Steel toed _and_ you could play basketball in them. Multipurpose and you don't have to spend six fucking hours running from shoe store to shoe store for the goddamned things. See? This is why I'm gay. That and I like to bump uglies with guys. And I like to look at naked guys. Especially Heero. I actually saw Heero naked. My God. 

Right. Heero at the table looking fifteen. He was still only in my jeans—down boy—and that collar, but he had that perfect, rigid posture that gave me sympathetic muscular spasms just looking at it. His fingers were on the table in front of him, drumming it like the typing habit was so ingrained he couldn't not do it. He was staring intently into the middle distance, or into an imaginary LCD monitor. He looked, swear to God, just like he did when he was mission planning. 

I dumped the blankets and stuff on the couch and sauntered over as casually as possible. "I put some stuff on the couch for ya, buddy."

He drummed his fingers on his imaginary laptop—hey, I've still got an imaginary Deathscythe Hell, so I can relate—for a few moments, then looked up at me. He was either mentally reliving the missions where he had been stealing data from an Oz facility, _at_ the Oz facility, while I was blowing up the Oz facility around him, or he was constipated. What? You can never tell with him. It's not like he's going to tell anyone when he doesn't feel good. Omae o korosu can mean anything from I wish I could kill you even though I'm just a big ol' softie to I have walking pneumonia, please call an ambulance, you have ten minutes until I expire. Just for reference, jack off sessions are _so_ much better when you make omae o korosu mean I want to fuck your ass until your back teeth are floating in my sperm. I sat down before my boner grabbed any more attention than it should.

"Are you gay?" 

"So you're not constipated? That's good because I'm out of the pink stuff."

He gave me one of _those_ looks. "Duo."

"Yes, I'm gay." I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my best it's okay if you have a problem with that because I know the best places to hide whatever's left of your body glares. I learned it from Hilde when I accidentally walked in on her one morning while she was doing senseless chick stuff in the bathroom that turned her face green. The camera I was carrying accidentally went off and several pictures of her ranging from surprised return of the swamp thing to enraged, nightmare inducing return of the swamp thing accidentally found their way into several email boxes of mutual acquaintances and the bulletin board at work and the one at our favorite diner and, oh yeah. I think it's safe to say that Heero is immune to glared death threats. He smirked at me and went back to his imaginary laptop. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, whatever. When you get done planning your imaginary mission on your imaginary laptop, come on down to the imaginary hanger and help me upgrade my imaginary Deathscythe's imaginary weapons systems. I'm planning on pretending to demolish Wufei's apartment building and then pretending to flick him off to Mars with imaginary Scythe's finger when I get there at oh dark fucking thirty tomorrow."

He glared at me. "I am _not_ planning an imaginary mission."

Hm. So he had a _real_ mission working behind those spine-meltingly gorgeous blue eyes. How to extract that information. I smiled at him sweetly. "Of _course_ not. How _silly_ of me."

The glare deepened. "I'm not in the mood for your games, Duo."

"Hey, it's okay, buddy. I'm not judging here. Even though it doesn't even have hyperjammers, I still call my car Deathscythe Hell and pretend I'm using a thermal scythe on the fucking morons that somehow managed to get licensed to drive around here. I'm not gonna get on your ass about imaginary missions. I bet it's relaxing and stuff for you." I widened the sweet smile. "Sometimes I even pretend to borrow imaginary Wing's imaginary beam cannon."

He huffed and narrowed his eyes. Shit, if Hilde ever learned to look at people like that, she wouldn't need to threaten me with pink hair ribbons and a skinny braid on each side of my face to get me to behave. Though, somehow, Heero managed to get this soft, almost vulnerable look lodged into his glare of doom. Hilde could never pull that off. "Do you like me?"

"Yup! You're my best friend." I let the sweet drop out of the smile in favor of reassurance and beaming honesty.

"Duo," Heero said patiently. "I'm gay."

I nodded. "You said."

"You're gay."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

"Do you like me?"

"I just said so, didn't I? I like you, Heero. You're a great guy and fun to be with. Don't let anyone else ever tell you different because they're all a bunch of uncultured poltroons."

"Duo," Heero said like I was two years old and hopped up on sugar or something. "I'm gay."

I opened my mouth.

"You're gay."

Duh.

"Do you _like_ me?"

Jeez, and Heero's usually so quick on the uptake, too. "For the third time, _yes_ , I _like_ you. You're my best friend."

He groaned and looked pained. If he'da been Hilde, he'd be beating his forehead on his imaginary keyboard.

"Are you okay buddy?"

"No, I'm _not_ okay. I'm asking if you want to be my lover and you're, you're—" He cut himself off with some snarled Japanese.

Oh. So _that's_ what this is about. I smiled gently at him and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. "Don't sweat it, 'Ro. I understand. I really respect you, you know? I would _never_ take advantage of you like that no matter what Doro is making you do."

"Doro is making me...." He trailed off, his eyes wide. I hoped that he knew that I wouldn't abuse his generous nature like Psycho Dotty was all into. I hoped he was speechless because he was shocked, yet grateful that I respected him enough to treat him like a human being with feelings and the final say in how his life should be run. I decided that it was progress even though the thought of rewarding him by letting him give me a blowjob was trying to make itself a priority.

Squeezing his hand reassuringly one last time, I stood up and shoved my hands in my pockets before I gave into the urge and ran them through his hair. You wouldn't believe how much I wanted to touch his hair. I freaking _itched_ to do it now that I knew exactly what it felt like. And I thought I had it bad before. "Heero, buddy, you're more than welcome to stay here, with me, as long as you like. I'll help you get back on your feet and figure out what you want from life if you'd like. You don't have to go back to Doro if you don't want to. You don't _have_ to be a slave and she can't make you be one. You're so much more than that."

He blinked at me in pure shock. I'd like to think there was some gratitude in there, but I'm not Relena to be seeing only what I want to see in him. He shut his mouth with a snap and sighed, long and lustily. "Baka."

Call me crazy, but I like to think of his bakas as an endearment even though I know they're not. "Hey, think it over, buddy. You don't have to answer right away." I grinned at him. "I'm here to back you up on this mission. It'll be like old times! If you want, we can even get two of those twin beds and do the dorm thing again. That'd be cool because then I wouldn't have to clean out the spare room. Not even _Hilde_ is brave enough to go in there to clean and she's got that female insane thing going on, you know."

Heero just sighed again and dropped his forehead to his imaginary keyboard. "Duo no baka."

"Well, buddy, it's kind of late and I gotta go blow up the Wumeister's apartment building pretty damned early so I'm gonna turn in. There's some stuff on the couch and you know where the bathroom and the kitchen is. Feel free to help yourself. If you get bored, I got vids and vid games. I keep the porn in the closet in the hall. Hilde put towels on top of my vid disks for some reason. Women are _so_ weird." I smiled at him again. "G'night, buddy."

"Oya sumi." Well that sounded awful defeated. Maybe he just needed some time to think about my offer and how much better it was than what Dorothy was doing. "Duo no baka."

Needless to say, I had to jack off three times before I could go to sleep. You just can't get an eyeful of naked Heero Yuy and _not_ jack off over it. It's the law, or it should be. Make that four times. Needless to say, jacking off does nothing for dreams. My libido was in overdrive and I had the erotic dreams to match it. God, how I love my little Dream Sex Kitten Heero. To tell the truth, he's why I never had much luck with dates. They just couldn't match up to my Dream Sex Kitten. Probably only the real Heero would ever do and we all know how likely _that_ is. He'd get his life together, figure out what he wanted, and go for it like a mission, and I'd be curled up at night with only my Dream Sex Kitten Heero to keep me company. Enough depressing shit, especially when there's wet dreams about my lil' Sex Kitten out there to enjoy.

I dreamt about taking Heero up on the slave thing. I'd bent him over, spanked his hot little ass, and then kissed it all better. With lots of tongue. _Lots_ of tongue, if you know what I mean. There was a really weird one where we were in Deathscythe Hell fighting mobile dolls that looked like a bunch of Dorothys wearing Relena's war-time look and I was sitting, spitted on his lap, and he was using my dick like a stick to pilot with. Let me tell you, Dream Sex Kitten Heero can fucking pilot me like that anytime. I really liked the one where he went to HQ with me in the morning and he bent me over Wufei's desk while Wu was off filing another change of partner request with Une. Then came the best one, my favorite, where we were curled up in bed together, making hot, passionate, wild monkey love. I've had this one and its many variations a lot.

Tonight's love making started out with him naked and me in my PJ bottoms. He lifted the sheets up and slid into bed with me, right up against my body where every bit of him matched every bit of me like we were machined that way. I told him that I loved this dream like I always did. Call me weird, but I liked to make sure my Dream Sex Kitten Heero knew how much I appreciated him. He kissed me softly, like he always did, and told me that he loved this dream, too. And it got really hot and naked from there. Dream Sex Kitten Heero wanted me to talk dirty to him, to tell him about all of my hot dreams starring him, and that's something that I'm always more than pleased to tell him about. I told him about my dorm room fantasies that I used to have in the war while he sucked and licked on my nipples. I told him about my Duo and Heero, Perverted Preventers fantasies while he slipped his naked thigh between my naked legs. He kissed me until all of my muscles were jelly and the only thing that was in proper working order was my dick. We didn't do actual intercourse in this dream, which is okay because dry humping my Dream Sex Kitten Heero's leg was a billion times better than even the wildest orgy with the sexiest real people alive—barring the real Heero. My Dream Sex Kitten Heero went wild after I told him that. He palmed my ass with both hands, spreading the cheeks apart and slipping his fingers down to tease me. His mouth was everywhere on my face and neck when his tongue wasn't trying to mate with my tonsils. We were getting all hot and sweaty, just like a good dream should, and that only made the slide of my boner along his thigh that much better. And then his fingers started a slow slide into me and I was coming all over him. He held me tight after that, both of us kind of rocking together, interlocked like a dove tail joint. I told him that I wished that the real Heero and my Dream Sex Kitten Heero were the same. He said something to me, but I didn't catch it because the dream had already ended.

When the alarm went off, I couldn't move my arm to throw it at the wall. Why not? Because the real Heero was pretzeled up with me and my arm was stuck under him and I couldn't feel it anymore. I shoved at him, jerking at my arm, until he flopped onto his back and grunted. I suddenly wished I hadn't've rolled his heavy ass off my arm because the feeling started coming back. I managed to crawl over Heero enough to delicately press the snooze button with my fist, then just collapsed over him, whimpering. Pins and needles suck! Aargh! 

Heero wrapped his arms around me and rolled onto his side, tucking me up against his front and nuzzling his face in my hair. I was nose to chest with the best-smelling skin on the planet all of the sudden and the only thing keeping the ol' morning wood from poking him where the spandex usually went was the fact that my arm felt like someone had hit with a taser set to maximum agony.

And then the thought hit me. What if it hadn't been dream. What if real Heero had substituted himself for my Dream Sex Kitten Heero sometime in the middle of the night and I'd spooged all over the real Heero's thigh instead of my Dream Heero's thigh and holy shit. That thought held me sufficiently immobile long enough for Heero to completely relax back into a slumbering log and the pins and needles to go away. A minute after that, the alarm went off again. This time, Heero reached over me and hit the snooze button.

My brain kicked back into gear then. No, it had to have been a dream. I was wearing my PJ bottoms for one and I'd been bare assed in the dream, as usual. The room didn't reek of eau du semen and a quick feel of my nether regions and probable splash points turned up only clean skin and nothing dried and flaking. I took a deep breath, then another. Okay. I had a dream that didn't get as wet as they sometimes did. Real Heero had crawled into bed with me. The two hadn't mixed somehow and my secret was safe. Only my Dream Sex Kitten Heero knew how pathetic I was. Only my Dream Sex Kitten Heero knew that I'd rather come home to an imaginary Heero than to anyone that wasn't Heero. I took another deep breath and felt my heart rate return to normal.

I would be okay. When my best friend got himself put back together and left me for the real love of his life, whoever that would prove to be, I would still have my dignity, even if Wufei says I don't have any. Me'n Dream Sex Kitten Heero will be very happy with each other.

Turning the alarm off for real this time, I hauled myself out of bed. Somehow, I managed not to kill myself when I tripped over the balled up sheet that was on the floor for some funky reason. I grinned sheepishly up at a rather alarmed looking Heero. "I meant to do that."

He shook his head and smiled a little. "Baka. You go shower. I'll make breakfast."

My grin widened. "Waffles?"

"Miso."

"Aw, man, don't be like that. It's not breakfast if you can't put syrup on it." I gave him the patented puppy dog eyes for good measure.

He sighed. "All right. Waffles, but just today. From now on you'll be eating mostly healthy food, not mostly junk food."

"So does this mean you're going to stay with me?"

He nodded.

I couldn't help it, I glomped him. "This is gonna be great!"

He wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me back, then kissed my temple. "You're a complete idiot," he said fondly.

"I am not."

"You are. Quit pouting."

"Am not!"

He kissed me again and I couldn't help but feel all squishy over it. "Shower or you'll be late."

Feeling kind of like I was a big pogo stick, I bounced to my feet. "I'm supposed to be late. It's in my job description."

I whistled my way into the shower. Bounced, too, but I don't like to talk about that. After getting all nice and wet and using the soap to, er, _clean_ myself until the swelling went down, I washed my hair. Funny, that. I've been getting serious nookie from my Dream Sex Kitten Heero for years, but not once have I ever imagined him washing my hair. The _real_ Heero, though, I don't think I've washed my hair more than once or twice without at least thinking of him doing it for me. And that was a serious mistake. You know, conditioner works better than soap for, er, _cleaning_ until the swelling goes down, if you know what I mean. It's very slippery and full of conditionery stuff. Blow drying was a pain. Literally. I don't wash my hair and jack off twice in the same shower period for a reason. My arms were all pissy with me when I got around to do the actual braiding. Or maybe I was just wanting to ask Heero to do it for me. Aw hell.

The waffles were on the table by the time I arrived, trying to rub the muscle burn out of my biceps. The first thing I noticed was that Heero was wearing only a pair of boxers. My boxers. Heero was wearing _my_ underwear. Could you just _die_? The second thing I noticed was that there wasn't any syrup on the table and it wasn't in its usual spot. And the big jug I kept in with the canned goods was missing, too.

"I confiscated it. You don't need that much sugar."

I glared at him. "That's low, Yuy, messing with a man's breakfast."

He snorted, unimpressed. "There's syrup on your waffles."

"Right, two drops."

"Approximately two tablespoons, which is a serving size."

"Like I said." I threw myself into the chair and glowered. "This is fucked up."

He tossed me an amused look which I did _not_ find the least bit cute. He stole my syrup! You can't find anything cute about that!

"Gimme my syrup back, Yuy."

"Or what?"

"Or else!"

He grinned at me without so much as twitching his lips. "Or else what? You'll spank me?"

That did it. "Yes! Syrup! Now!" 

"No."

I shot to my feet. "I mean it, Heero."

"You'll just have to spank me." A lazy smile managed to work its way across his face. "Just kiss it and make it better when you're done. With _lots_ of tongue."

I stared at him, bright flaming red from the roots of my hair to my toenails with my jaw hanging out somewhere near my knees. Somehow, I sank down into my chair again and shut my mouth. "I need to cut back on sugar anyway," I squeaked. Squeaked! But oh my God, _you_ have Heero Yuy tell you to spank him and then kiss it better and see if you don't squeak.

He laughed then, turning toward the counter to do something with the assembled dishes. "Coward."

Damned tootin.

"You have any plans for the day, Heero?"

He shrugged and slipped the dishes into the sink efficiently. 

"It's not too late, you can still come with me. Lots of people would love to see you."

He shook his head and started washing dishes. "No. Not yet."

I shrugged myself and dug in to breakfast. "All right. Like I said last night, I got vids and some games if you wanna play. I think there's some books around here, too."

"I think I'll go shopping."

I grinned. "Good idea! Get some clothes and stuff for yourself. You need any creds?"

"I'm fine, Duo."

"Okay, if you're sure. I got plenty and I don't mind helping a buddy out. You're my best friend, you know."

He smiled, a little lopsidedly, over his shoulder. "Thank you, but I'll be fine."

"Anyway, help yourself to some clothes, man. You can't go running around in that junk Dot the Wonder Freak brought for you."

"Thanks."

"Hey, don't mention it." I finished cleaning my plate and had to resist the urge to lick the little bit of syrup off of it. "Breakfast was great. I really 'preciate it."

"It was my pleasure."

"Even if you _did_ steal my syrup. Uncultured poltroon."

He quirked an amused eyebrow in my direction. "Do you even know what poltroon means?"

"Something really bad. Relena called me that once when I got stuck on bodyguard detail."

He shook his head again and returned to the dishes.

After carrying mine over to him, he wasn't my servant dammit, I yanked open the gag drawer and sorted through it. "What's it mean, anyway?"

"Get a dictionary, baka."

I sniffed and bypassed the whoopee cushion in favor of a baggie full of realistic looking cockroaches. I usually saved them for the landlord, but today seemed pretty special. 

Heero wrinkled his nose in a way that was too cute for words. "What are you doing?"

I grinned. "I'm going to put these in Wufei's desk. And Sally's desk since it's her fault I have to get up early."

"I don't want to know."

My grin widened. "You know that if you throw up, Wufei will, too? I found that out when I got food poisoning. I'm saving the fake vomit for a very special occasion. I just don't know what yet."

"I don't think I want to know." He trailed me to the computer where I opened up a few pictures of Zechs and printed them up. Wufei regularly sabotaged color printers at HQ so I had to do it at home. Heero frowned. "Do you like Zechs?"

"Zechs? Hell yeah. He's cool as shit to work with and sometimes he helps me prank Wufei." I grinned a little ruefully. "Zechs is also pretty good at, um, _translating_ me to Une. She doesn't get me, you know."

I glanced at him before stuffing the pictures and fake bugs into my briefcase. He looked like he was grinding his teeth or something. "I see," he said finally. 

"See what?"

He shrugged again, a nonchalant look plastered on his face. "While I'm out shopping, Master, is there anything you'd like me to get for you?"

Master again? Dammit. "No, Heero, I'm good. Just quit calling me master. I'm not."

"You could be." He leaned forward and licked at my lips. "Anything you want." He tugged one of my suddenly limp hands up and pressed the palm and fingers to his naked chest. "Anything at all, I'll get it for you."

"Huh-how 'b-bout ssukiyaki for dinner?" His tongue slid between my lips and I just wanted to melt. I found myself clutching at his shoulders just to keep from falling over and I was sitting down already.

"All right." He hummed in the back of his throat before pulling away. "You taste so good, Duo."

"I'd taste even better if you hadn'ta stole my syrup."

He laughed at that. "I'll see you when you get home."

Once his ass had walked into the kitchen and out of my sight so I could actually think again, I shook my head. Too bad I didn't have time for a little extra, er, _cleaning_ before I had to leave.


	4. Senor Duo es la Muerte! Soy la Maid-ee-o!

I picked Wufei up at his place at exactly 0633. Hey, he said that I couldn't be fifteen, five, or one minute late. He didn't say a damned thing about being three minutes late. How a man could get so pissed off about three minutes is beyond me. It's not like we were going to arrive late. Hell, we'd be there an hour early so he'd have plenty of time to seat himself in the break room to watch Zechsy-babe's grand entrance. What? Hey, he does it every friggin day. Wufei is _so_ in the closet it's not even funny. Anyway, his daily dose of Zechs ogling gives me plenty of time to tack up several of today's Zechsy pics around the office and then hide the peace day resist aunts—Z-boy on the beach in a black speedo and a smile—somewhere in today's lot of paperwork. He always keeps the racier pics. He pretends to shred them and stuffs them into his briefcase to take home. Hey, I'm not too ashamed to pick a lock. Not that I can blame him. Zechs is sex on the hoof. Not quite as hot as Heero, but I don't mind a little office eye candy in the least. 

Speaking of office eye candy. "Good morning, Duo."

"Heya Zechs."

Zechs tossed a disc onto my desk and looked at the floor. "Same deal."

I smirked. "You bet."

He turned a funny shade of red, which was odd. He never blushed on me before. "I, er, got a little adventurous last night. Please be discrete."

"I promise."

"Thanks."

I waited until the door shut and then had the disc in the drive before you could say chocolate. And oh my fucking God. A _little_ adventurous? A _little_? I grinned. This was going to be good. Tomorrow. After I had some time on a computer that the sysadmin guys weren't constantly trying to bug into. Freaks. I didn't think they'd get past my security (network _this_ , bitch!), but you can never be too careful and I certainly didn't want _these_ pictures of ol' Zechsy to get out anywhere but to their intended recipient. Who was charging down the hallway toward the office as we speak. 

I barely had the disc tucked away in my bag before the door slammed open and Wufei stalked inside. If you've ever met someone in _dire_ —we're talking declare a state of emergency, it's a national disaster _dire_ —need of getting laid, then you've met Wufei. His blue balls have him so paranoid that his conspiracy theories have mated and spawned litters of little, baby conspiracy theories. I smiled at him. Sweetly. Hey, you work with what you've got.

"What have you done this time, Maxwell?" he demanded, storming directly to our corkboard to glower at the two artfully arranged pictures of Zechs I've put up this morning. He yanked them down, shook them at me with this expression on his face that kinda made him seem like he was pleased to be constipated, then ran them through the shredder. "I am immune to this foolishness. You are wasting your time with this idiotic notion of yours. Moreover are dishonoring Merquise. He is a fine man and a great Preventer."

Ri-i-i-i-ight. Betcha twenty creds that when I crack his briefcase this afternoon, Zechs in his Speedo is in it. Not only that, but safely tucked away in archival quality wax paper and a manila folder so it couldn't possibly be harmed. 

"What, no whoopee cushion today? Feeling ill, Maxwell?" He seated himself comfortably on his chair, settled his coffee cup down, and reached for his files. Time to make tracks.

"Nope, I'll wait until you quit checking every time you sit down to use it again." I stood up and picked up my coffee cup. "You want anything while I'm up?"

"No."

"Jeez, you try to be nice to a guy."

He grunted. "I could do with less of your so-called kindness and more of your work."

Yeah, yeah, broken record. I killed about thirty minutes shooting the bull in the break room and stopping off at Une's place to reassure her that Wufei and I really were getting along fine, isn't it too bad that he can't take a joke. Thirty minutes should have been long enough to spend some quality time with Zechs and his cute little speedoes, then hide the evidence. One of these days, I'm calling in sick and bugging Wufei's place. I just gotta know what he's doing with those pictures.

"Great news, Wu!" I crowed as I flung open the door, just so he'd be sure to have enough warning to hide the goods from me. "Une says we're still partners! Isn't that great? We should go to lunch and celebrate or something. They got a new Hawaiian place down on Fourth with a fake beach and everything. We could bring Zechs along." I leered at him, for good measure.

Wufei turned ninety shades of red before turning bright purple. "I have disposed of that, that, that _picture_ you planted." In your briefcase so you can add it to your fan shrine at home. "I will thank you to stop immediately!" You'd break down and cry if I did, Wufei, my hard up, horny man.

"Sure. I'm out of pictures. Mind if I start up again tomorrow? I got some good ones!"

He bared his teeth and growled at me, but you could tell he was pleased with the news. His eyes were smiling at me. No shit. Wufei loves me, you know. I grinned back at him, just so he understood that I knew it was all an act on his part and he snarled in Mandarin. I picked out a few words here and there so his cussing must have gotten really esoteric today. He's seriously cute when he's pretending to be all pissed off at me, not as cute as Heero, 'cause, let's just face it, no one is as cute as Heero, but still pretty cute.

Work was, as usual, dull. Sure, we have to do our research first and then kick bad guy ass once we figured at a) the best way to do it, and b) if it's really a bad guy, and c) I need a trim, look at those split ends. Maybe I should look into some new condi—

"Maxwell! Playing with your hair is not working!"

I shook my braid at him and gave him my best Heero-glower. "I got split ends! It's an emergency!" That's what I love about Wufei, he can always tell when I'm getting a bit stressed and is kind enough to give me something to do about it. While I'd really rather have a back massage and a latte—chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream please!—yelling works, too.

"The state of your hair is not an emergency, it's a nuisance. You should cut it off."

Ooooh. Wu was so gonna get it. I surged to my feet. "And maybe you should get laid so you'll get off my ass!"

The office door creaked open and a few of our fellow agents stood there. One of them had popcorn. I shit you not.

Wufei was on his feet now, all red in the face. A red faced Wufei who was flaming pissed off really isn't as cute as a normal color faced Wufei who was flaming pissed off. "Perhaps you should look into therapy for your addiction to sex, that is, if you were actually getting any!"

The guy standing next to the popcorn chick scribbled on his yellow pad, then held it up. 7.3 from the judges. Isn't it great to see how much entertainment we provide for our fellow agents?

"At least I'm saving myself for the guy I love and not because I'm so far in the closet that the only thing keeping me company is my shrine to my dream guy!"

Yellow pad guy gave me a 7.1. Curses.

"No doubt Yuy left because he couldn't tolerate you anymore than I can!"

Oooh, low blow. Only a 6.9, but still a low blow. Two days ago, it might even have hurt. 

"No doubt Yuy left because he got sick of hard-up-and-horny Chang metaphorically humping his ass!"

Yellow pad guy gave me a 7.6. Yes! Score and Maxwell takes the lead!

"If it makes you feel better to think so. Considering that Yuy could barely stand to give you the time of day when you were constantly humping his leg, it's not surprising that you'd prefer to blame me!"

Yellow pad guy looked a little puzzled by that one, but gave Wufei a pity 7.4.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you couldn't take your eyes off my ass while I was doing it, either!"

I got an 8.3 for that and a thumbs up from popcorn girl.

"I was _not_ looking at your, your _backside_!"

And Maxwell wins! Whoo! "Right, and I don't suppose that wasn't _your_ hand on my dick in Kyoto?"

Wufei turned neon pink. "That was an _accident_ , Maxwell!"

"And you sure took your damned sweet time letting go."

"I did _nothing_ of the sort!"

"You know you popped wood. Still beat off thinking about it, Fei? What might have been if you'd just hung on a bit longer? Hmmm?" 

His mouth worked like a landed fish and his pink went to a bloody looking red. He growled something in Mandarin that reflected rather poorly on my ancestry and its relation to sewer rats while I smirked. He stabbed a few buttons on his computer and the printer whirred. Moments later, he brandished the print out at me, then signed it, then shook it at me again. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't you people have work to do?" Wufei roared at the door. Our audience dispersed like street rats when the store alarm goes off. He stomped through the door and down the hallway. 

I stuck my head out the door, caught sight of a white blond head loitering by Une's office and smirked. Ooh, you are such a _bad_ boy, Duo. "Hey, Wufei! Don't forget to ask Zechsy-pooh for blowjob! It'll do ya a world of good!"

Wufei froze, every muscle in his body spasming rigidly. Down the hall, Zechs somehow managed to keep a straight face, though he did turn a funky color. Wufei whirled to face me. "Omae o korosu!"

"Ooh, baby, turn me— _oh shit_!" I slammed the door and locked it before he could get there.

"Maxwell! I'm going to _kill_ you!" He was beating on the door now. His keys were in here then. Score!

"You know you love me, baby!" I settled into my chair, kicked back, and smirked. The vidphone went off and I clicked it over. "Yo, you got Maxwell."

"Maxwell! You are dead! Do you understand? Dead! If you are lucky it will only take two weeks!" Wufei bellowed.

Trowa, on screen, blinked. "Duo?"

"I had no idea you were into S & M, Wu-baby!" I grinned at Tro. "Hey, Tro, what's up?"

"Is Wufei threatening to kill you?"

"Maxwell!" Geez, the windows were rattling now.

"Wu, darling, I'm not into the leather scene. Go ask Zechs!"

"Aaargh!"

Trowa blinked again. "Is this a bad time?"

"Nah, it's okay. Wufei's just getting his morning rant out of the way. He loves me." 

"I see."

 _Crrrack_. Damn. He's awful pissed if he broke the lock again. Wufei slammed the door open and stomped to my desk. His new partner request was a mangled snot rag by now and he was breathing like a rhino about to charge.

I ignored him. "Whatcha need, Tro?"

"I'm going shopping and I wanted a little bit of fashion advice."

I smiled. "You've come to the right place! Maxwell's House of Style at your service! Hey, Wu, you mind, man? Don't you have work to do or something?"

"One of these days, Maxwell," Wufei snarled, "I am going to get you alone and strangle you with your braid."

"I love you, too, snookums. So, Tro, is this a total wardrobe make over or just an outfit for a night out or what?"

You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say Trowa was smirking. "A total wardrobe makeover."

"Bout damned time. That turtleneck of yours went out with the dinosaurs."

"It's for a friend of mine."

"Oh. Well, I don't know what I can do to help."

He was smirking! "Just a few suggestions that we can take to the experts. He's trying to get the Dream Sex Kitten look."

Uh.... "Uh...." 

"Close your mouth, Duo."

"Did you say _Dream Sex Kitten_?"

"What do Dream Sex Kittens wear?"

I glared at him. " _Who_ is your _friend_?"

The smirk grew.

"Maxwell!" Wufei roared from over at his desk. He was holding a Zechs in sweatpants, no shirt, and leather half-gloves, dripping with sweat and rippling chest muscles pic. Damn, I put that one in his desk _weeks_ ago. I woulda thought he'da found that sooner. "This is _not_ amusing! You are a sick, demented individual and I highly recommend you seek psychiatric help immediately because I'm going to murder you in the next five minutes!"

"Oh c'mon, Wu. You gotta admit Zechsy looks _damn_ hot all half naked and sweaty like that. Maybe he could use a _spotter_." You know I had to throw in a leer.

"Duo, you _didn't_ ," Trowa said. One of his lions was growling in the background. Huh. Trowa's phone is in his trailer which isn't where his lions are.

"I am going to cut your testicles off and shove them down your throat then I will strangle you," Wufei bellowed conversationally. Only Wu, I tell ya.

Trowa was abruptly shoved out of the way and Heero's face filled the screen. "Tell Chang that if he harms you, I will rip his spine out."

I've never seen Wufei's face contort quite like that before. It looked like someone hit him with a fish and then stuffed chocolate cake in his shorts. "Y- _Yuy_?" He shook himself. "Is that _Yuy_?"

"Tell him, Duo," Heero growled, just like one of Tro's lions might.

"Jeez, 'Ro. I _told_ you that Wufei adores the hell out of me! He'd never hurt me on purpose. He just likes to yell a lot to blow off steam and I like to help out my friends."

Heero glowered. "That did not sound like blowing off steam."

"We've been working together for months and months and he threatens to kill me at least five times a day. He'd get all constipated and depressed and shit if I didn't tease him 'cause then he'd have no reason to yell, ya know?"

Wufei slid around my desk and glared at the vidphone. "Yuy? Where have you _been_? Are you staying with Barton? What is that thing around your neck?"

Heero turned a dull shade of red and tugged at the collar. "Fashion statement."

Wufei frowned. "You should not permit Maxwell to have any say in your wardrobe choices. You will look like an idiot."

I rolled my eyes. _I_ didn't pick the collar out. "Says the man who wore white pajamas through the war."

Heero frowned.

Wufei waved a hand. "If you _must_ ask someone for fashion tips, ask Winner or Merquise. Both of them have enough sense to dress a man appropriately."

Heero's frown deepened back into a glare. "I happen to _want_ to be Duo's Dream Sex Kitten."

Oh dear God. He _knew_. I did the only sensible thing a man could do in a situation like that. I hid under my desk.

Wufei took the opportunity to fall into my vacated chair. "You're joking."

"No. Duo? Get back where I can see you."

He _knew_.

"Duo isn't here!" I yelled. "He died and you missed his funeral!"

"Duo," Heero growled.

Wufei snorted this high pitched little giggly snort. I was gonna kill him. We could go to hell in a handbasket together. "No habla Standard! Senor Duo es la muerte! Soy la maid-ee-o!"

"This was a bad idea, Trowa," Heero growled. Wufei did his giggly snort thing again.

"I have no idea what a Dream Sex Kitten wears, Heero. Wufei? Do you know?" And didn't bang boy just have to enjoy the hell out of my humiliation while he was at it. "Duo, your Spanish is awful."

"Duo?" Heero was apparently ignoring the other two. "Duo?"

"He's hiding under his desk, Yuy. His embarrassment appears to be of the mortal variety," Wufei said, sounding utterly amused. He bent over to peer under the desk. I hid my face in my arms and wondered if I could just please die right now, thanks so much. "It doesn't appear as if he intends to come out any time soon. Shall I take a message?"

"No. I'll be there in half hour, Chang. Get me in. Yuy out."

Wufei stuck his smirking face under the desk. "You do realize that I'm not above blackmailing you, do you not? Good. I'll just be heading down to arrange a visitors pass for your Dream Sex Kitten." Wufei stood, smirking like the god damned bastard that he is. "If we can convince him to join Preventers, do you think Commander Une will approve of Agent Dream Sex Kitten?"

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. This was _not_ happening.

It was happening. Twenty minutes later, a still cackling Chinese asshole ushered Heero into our shared office with Trowa trailing behind. Gee, all we needed was Quat and we'd be a full house. I squeezed further under the desk.

"Duo, come out of there," Heero requested. Okay, ordered, but I can make it be a request if I want. And I can pretend to not be there if I want, too. "Master, please."

Was it just me or was Heero once again the only human in earshot that was still breathing?

"Yuy?" Wufei asked faintly. "Did you just say...?"

Heero ignored him in favor of scooting as much of himself under my desk as he could fit with me. We were kind of big to be under there and, well, we weren't fifteen anymore. My back was kinking up like a bitch in a skin-tight, black latex corset with a whip.

"Master?" Okay, _bad_ analogy. Well, at least he was whispering.

"Please don't call me that."

"Barton, did Yuy just call Maxwell _master_?" Wufei demanded hotly.

"It wasn't my intent to embarrass you," Heero said quietly. "Are you angry?"

"No, I'm not mad. Just really embarrassed."

There was a creak above us. Trowa sitting on my desk because Wufei would never do anything so slovenly. "It's good to see you as well, Wufei," Trowa said. Give it up, the Wuster can't take a hint to save his life.

Heero stared at my braid. "I required assistance and Trowa was the logical choice."

"Huh?" I blinked at him. Stupidly. Like a cow or something.

"Pay attention, Barton. Did Yuy just call Maxwell his master?" Wufei was still huffy. The man needed an enema. Since there was nothing but silence, Trowa had apparently decided that he'd contributed to the conversation about as much as he intended to.

"I did not want to embarrass you by telling Trowa and Wufei about your dreams about me, but I required Trowa's help, so he needed to know."

I glowered at my braid, too. "Trowa already knew about it. We had a mission once and we had to share a really small bed and let's just say things got really, _really_ sticky and leave it at that."

He gaped at me. Sort of. Well, if I'd've had that kind of expression my jaw would be all in my lap and my eyes would be all wide and stupid looking. He just looked...cute. And sexy. "Trowa hasn't had any missions since the—how long have you been dreaming about me?"

"You were pretty much the subject of my first wet dream," I muttered.

"I didn't hear you, Master."

"He did!" Wufei yelped. "He called Maxwell _master_!"

I decided to ignore that for now. I had Wufei's up and coming six-pack of shut-the-hell-up in my briefcase on a disc that had Zechs being a _little_ adventurous. Rowr. Speaking of rowr. "My first wet dream was about you and it hasn't changed since. I had my first wet dream on the first night we stayed together in that first stupid school. Does _that_ answer your question?"

Apparently it did because Heero looked inordinately—shut up, I do too know big words—pleased with himself. The bastard. "I remember that. Your moaning woke me up and I asked if you were sick. You said it was something you ate." He glared. "I thought you never lied."

I smirked. "And I didn't. You have no idea how good you tasted in my dreams."

He smirked back. "You can have the real thing any time you want, Master."

Shya right. I smiled at him. "I told you, Heero, I'll never ever take advantage of you like that. I want you to know that you can trust me."

Someone sniggered. It sounded suspiciously like Trowa. Heero shook his head. "I already trust you."

God, that hurt so much because I knew it wasn't real. Slaves didn't have a choice. "I know you think you do now, Heero."

He sighed. "You're a complete baka."

"Gee, thanks."

"Duo, it's not—"

The door crashed open, rather loudly. "Yuy? I was told that you were in here. Hello, Barton. I've been meaning to speak with you." Commander Une. Speak of a chick in a black latex corset with a whip and guess who shows up. "Where is Maxwell? He's supposed to be working."

"I am working!" I yelled. "I'm having a private consultation."

You know Trowa had to be smirking again. Wufei snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days, Maxwell?"

"It's better than what _you're_ calling it, Wufei."

"Maxwell? What are you doing _under_ your desk?" Une demanded. Crack that whip. "Come out of there. Where is Yuy?"

Heero shut his eyes and ground his teeth together.

"Duo works here," Trowa said. It kinda sounded like he was picking at his fingernails with a knife. Or maybe playing with a staple gun. "He spends at least half of his week, or more, here."

Heero's eyes popped open and he got this calculating look on his face.

"That's a stupid reason to join up," I hissed. "You should join up because it's what you want."

"I know what I want," Heero growled, "and you're not cooperating."

I stuck my tongue out at him. He rubbed it with his finger, then swung out from under the desk and stood. Okay, that was weird. And funny tasting.

"Yuy, if I could have a few moments of your time, I'd like to speak with you in my office," Une said. 

I peeked over the top of my desk, past Tro's comfily plopped ass. Holy shit, Une was smiling. Run for the hills folks. Find your bomb shelters. The apocalypse has begun. I peeked up at Heero. He didn't seem terribly impressed. Well hell. I decided that I'd had enough of the idiot thing and sat in my chair like a normal person might. I grinned briefly at the room at large, then cracked open my file on the bad guys again. Speaking of which.

"Hey, Tro, while you're out shopping with Heero, could you pick me up some of your conditioner? I'd like my hair to be lustrous, yet perky, too."

"Long hair doesn't do perky, Duo," Trowa said.

"We can exchange hair care tips later, Barton, Maxwell has work to do," Wufei said.

"If you'd like, after we speak, Agent Maxwell can give you a tour of our facilities," Une put in helpfully. Wufei glowered at his desk. 

"I'll hold you to that," Heero said in that hey look, I'm a laptop! voice of his. I hate that voice. If hanging with Une keeps him in that voice, I might just have to kneecap her. Okay, maybe vandalize her car with shaving cream after sabotaging the security so she won't know I did it, but the principle is the same. "Duo, I'll be back shortly. Don't go anywhere."

"What if I have to pee?"

"You can go, but come right back here."

I arched an eyebrow. It took me _months_ of practice to be able to do that. "I thought the leash went the other way."

"That only works when you're around to hold it."

"Yeah, yeah."

The instant after the door closed behind Une and the Silent Twins, Wufei dropped his pen and stared at me. "What is with this master business?"

Like I was gonna tell _him_. "I'm pretty sure Zechs knows how it's done so don't feel the need to ask _my_ advice."

He didn't even rise to the bait. Bastard. "Why is Yuy calling you master? Is this some sort of joke?"

"I'm not gonna talk about it, so quit asking."

"Something to hide?"

I fixed him with a flat stare. Hey, I can do non-verbal communication, too, ya know. "Have some respect for Heero. If he wants to tell you about it, he will. Otherwise, I'm not saying a damned thing."

"I suppose there is a first time for everything."

I glared at him, one of those mean ol' Shinigami is gonna getcha glares. Yeah, he kinda laughed at it, too. Anyway. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You couldn't shut up if your life depended on it," he said in his dry, it's amusing but kind of cute voice.

"So? I happen to like talking. It keeps the lines of communications clear and prevents misunderstandings."

Wufei shook his head. "If that was true, I would not find pictures of Merquise in this office every morning and you would not be bellowing sexual harassment regarding Merquise throughout the building."

I smiled at him. "It's just that what you say when you're drunk as shit and that stick has fallen out of your ass is a lot more true than what you're saying when you're pretending to be the perfect son."

He glared. Woah. I managed to get a 9.3 glare all on my own. "I have a duty to my Clan and I will not dishonor them with this _nonsense_ , Maxwell."

It always came back to that with him didn't it? I rolled my eyes. "You know that Quat's got twenty-nine sisters, right?"

 

He gave me his and what has that got to do with anything? look. You know, he's really good at that look. 

"C'mon, Chang, work with me here. Put two and two together and get four."

"If you'd bother to put your thoughts together in a linear fashion, it would be possible to apply linear mathematical concepts to them."

"If you got something to say, man, just say it."

He looked all disgusted now, but it wasn't his real disgusted face, just his I'm pretending to be disgusted face because he had that twinkle in his eye. He's got eyes that are so dark they're almost black so he can pull off that twinkle thing really well. Quat can twinkle, too, but that's only because he's already all sparkly like a big, cuddly, sea green teddy bear holding a frag grenade. What? _You_ piss Quatre off and tell me I'm lying.

"Gah, be that way, Wu. What I'm saying is that test tube babies happen, you know? Most people on L4 are seriously MacDuff."

He blinked at me, then did it again. "MacDuff? L4 is an Arabic colony, not a Gaelic one."

I blinked at him like he was stupid or something. You'd think Wu, of all people, would pick up on a literary reference. "You know, _MacDuff_. Not of woman born. Are you sick or something?"

" _You're_ quoting Shakespeare? Who are you and what have you done with Duo Maxwell?"

"Hardy fucking har har. My point is that it's only _nonsense_ if you make it that way. You _can_ do your duty to your clan and still have the love of your life." I beamed at him.

He didn't beam back. He just shook his head and went back to writing.

"So, is it the fact that I'm _right_ or is it the fact that _I'm_ right that's got the stick in your ass tied up in knots?"

"Maxwell." He put his pen down, slowly, doing his whole see, this is me being patient with you act. "To borrow a phrase, butt out."

I reclined in my chair—note to self: WD-40 the damned thing—and considered him carefully. "You know, if I thought you really meant that, I would."

He glared again, only a 5.4. Am I sensing a little bit of relief here or what? "What would it take to convince you?"

I grinned. "Get drunk off your ass with me and tell me the same thing."

He arched an eyebrow. I bet he had to practice for months to do it, too. "If I do this, then you will cease and desist with your ridiculous match making attempts?"

"You've got my word on it."

"Say the words, Maxwell."

Asshole. I rolled my eyes and cross my arms over my chest, huffing in indignation. "Have I ever lied to you?"

He grinned at me with a lot of teeth, like a shark or an attack dog might. It sure didn't look real friendly. "I have your word on _it_ , but not what _it_ might be. I am not stupid, Maxwell."

"Don't trust me. Fine, I see how you are."

"The words, Maxwell."

"Fine. I promise that if you get drunk off your ass, not just a little bit either, and tell me that you really don't want Zechs Merquise, the blonde sex god of the Preventers and beyond, _while_ you are drunk off your ass, from your own personal mouth and not a recording either, I will stop any and all match making attempts."

He frowned, then nodded. "Agreed."

I grinned and glomped him, just because I knew it would annoy him to no end. 

"Maxwell, get _off_!"

"No! You're gonna get plastered with me! This is going to be so much fun! We're going to need an impartial observer and I know _just_ who to ask!"

He tried to shove me off of his lap, but I'm pretty good at glomping Wu when he doesn't want to be glomped. I held on and blew a raspberry against his cheek. 

"Maxwell!"

"Duo?" 

Wow. Heero and Wu in two part harmony. And with my name, too.

I looked up to see Heero, Trowa, and Une standing in the doorway and me with my arm wrapped around Wufei's neck, sitting in his lap, who was still trying to shove me off. "Yo, 'Fei, you might want to let go of that before you make me all happy to see you, if you know what I mean."

Wufei turned ten shades of sheet white and squealed. Like Relena does when she sees spiders, mice, or me. Which can be _loads_ of fun, but isn't really relevant at the moment.

"You're busy," Heero said faintly. Trowa looked both amused and chagrined, though he wasn't exactly having an expression. I would _love_ to know how he does that.

"Maxwell, I will tolerate a lack of decorum from you to a point. Fraternization with Chang in uniform during duty hours goes well beyond that point. Save it for your personal time." Who knew Une had a sense of humor? Wufei was doing a damned fine impression of a blushing, stuttering lobster trying to scuttle out from under me and she was so laughing it up. You could see it in her eyes and the fact that she was actually smirking.

Heero glared at me, a serious kind of a glare that didn't make me feel much like smiling like his glares usually did. "You said that you weren't involved with anyone."

"I'm n—Heero!"

It was too late; he was gone.


	5. Random Acts of Combat Aerobics

I'm not afraid of many things. Wufei tells me that I don't have enough sense to be afraid and that I'm too reckless to remain among the living for long, let alone be a Preventer. It's kind of sweet the way he worries about me. Two things terrified me at the moment, so bad that I'm sure my hair was turning white, and at so young an age. One, I knocked Une flat on her ass and didn't stop to help her up and didn't apologize. She was in the way. And she shouldn't have been standing around in the doorway looking amused because that's just dumb. You never know when a soap operatic crisis might occur that requires its participants to go charging through HQ yelling at each other and threatening to cut off one another's braids out of sheer perverse evilness. Hell, you'd think that after employing me'n Wufei for as long as she has, she'd be used to random acts of combat aerobics and guerilla bellowing contests. What can I say, Wufei is a playful kind of a guy.

Two, and this scared me even worse that clotheslining Une—who once laughed maniacally after informing me that she was going to oversee my execution personally and then make sure the video made it into her personal collection of all time favorites—Heero was running away from me again. Yeah, Une'n me didn't exactly have a healthy relationship to start out, but I think that since she's gotten her personalities together—so if you have sex with her, is that like having a threesome? does it qualify as kinky lesbo action?—we're getting along much better. Uh, don't mention the threesome lesbo action. I'd like my skin to remain attached to my body, thanks.

Heero can usually run like all hell's breaking loose, but he was going kind of slow. He didn't even plow over the annoying guy who made it into Special Operations by the skin of his loser teeth. I'd have to make sure he rectified that on the return trip. I kicked it into high gear so I could make sure there _was_ a return trip.

"Heero, wait!"

He glared over his shoulder and slammed through the door to the stairs. Shit, couldn't he just take the elevator like normal people?

I ran in after him. "Heero, stop!"

Fucker picked up speed. Goddammit!

"Heero, you'd better fucking stop! That's an order!"

"No!" He yelled back. It echoed all the way up and down the stairwell. 

"Please stop!"

"What for? You're getting along just fine with _Chang_."

"Because you're my best friend and I lo—ike you and I don't want you to go away again because I'll miss you too much!"

He stopped. He did. He jumped onto a landing somewhere between the third and fourth floor and turned to look up at me. He had on his most endearing glare, the one that always made me want to wrap my arms around him and promise him everything and beyond. I stopped, too, a couple of feet away from him, and twisted my braid in my hands. His glare melted into something like naked hope and fear and nervousness. Sheesh. Talk about your wild imagination, Maxwell. He blinked a few times before opening his mouth. God, he has a sexy mouth. "Do you mean it?"

This was such a bad idea. Not only because he wasn't in any position to hear this kind of thing, but because it was really going hurt. I tried not to chew on my bottom lip and nodded.

Suddenly, I was all wrapped up in Heero. He pressed his face into my neck and squeezed. "My Duo."

No, boys don't cry, but they sure as shit bawled like babies and if we got any more emotional and stuff, I'd be blubbering all over his shoulder and a familiar black tee shirt. A black tee shirt that smelled like me and him all mixed together. 

"I want you to smile," he said. I could feel his breath against my neck and it was making me feel all warm and gooey inside and kind of hard and pointy outside. "I want to make you happy."

"You're wearing my shirt."

I'd bet anything that he was giving my jugular his embarrassed glare. "I'm sorry, Master."

"Quit calling me that!" I rubbed my hand along his spine and tried to pretend that it was only because I wanted to comfort him. Or something. "I'm not mad, it's just that I was wearing it yesterday. I had clean stuff you could have borrowed."

He eased himself backward and turned his embarrassed glare on the wall. "I joined up. I start the second."

"Cool! Hey, that's on Monday."

He nodded. "I'll be attached to Spec Ops, working computer investigations and as back up when necessary."

"You're not taking a field assignment?"

His eyes narrowed a little. "No." Was it me or did he sound a little uncertain there?

"Good." Thank fucking God. I really _would_ kneecap Une if she put him in the field. Well. I'd use house paint on her car—oil based house paint—when no one was looking, but the principle is the same. He looked at me sharply, probably testing to see if I was joking, so I smiled at him. "Heero, I really don't have anything going on with Wufei. I'm just his friend."

He frowned. "You were in his lap and you kissed him."

I grinned. "That wasn't a kiss." What the hell, right? I leaned forward and blew a raspberry against his cheek. "See?"

He wiped Duo-slobber off with a miffed glower. "That was disgusting."

"That's kinda the point."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Is that a Duo thing or an American thing?"

"Uh, both?"

"Duo," he sighed.

"Heero," I sighed back. I grabbed his hands, squeezing them in mine, and waited until he was looking me in the eyes. "Promise me that you'll never call me master again."

He stared for a minute, like he was counting the convolutions in my cerebrum, then shook his head. "No."

I glared. "Why the hell not?"

He just smirked at me. Bastard. 

"Fucking fine," I growled. "We should get back before Wufei decided to go looking through my stuff. I haven't done the roaches yet. Oh, and I gotta swing by Zechsy-babe's office."

Heero frowned. "Zechsy- _babe_?"

I grinned and kissed his cheek for not jumping to conclusions and running like hell, then bounded up the stairs. "Zechs is just a friend."

After verifying that Wufei was still at his desk, I headed on over to Zechs's office. You know he's got one to himself? He doesn't have to share with anyone! It's sick and wrong. Of course, I like sharing space with Wufei. He does keep things interesting and lively. Back during the Wars, I never woulda thought of Wufei as being such a fun loving guy. Well, fun loving for a guy with a stick up his ass. Sideways.

"Heya Zechs, I think we had a breakthrough!"

Zechs look up and smiled at me for a moment, before his eyes flicked to Heero. "Yuy."

"Merquise."

I rolled my eyes. "Come _on_ , we're all buddies here now and all that blowing each other to bits stuff is a bajillion miles away. Get in here and shut the door, Heero. Hurry up before Wufei sees you."

Heero heaved a sigh, but did as he was told. It shames me to admit, but I could kinda get used to that. Hey, it's a lot better than a shut up, baka and then getting ignored.

"What's the breakthrough?"

I grinned. "Wufei agreed to get drunk with me!" I tell ya, I almost did a victory dance. 

Zechs just looked at me like I was insane. "A breakthrough would be Wufei agreeing to get drunk with _me_."

I waved my hand in the air. "Same thing. We need an _ahem_ impartial observer."

Zechsy's eyes flicked over the Heero again and stayed there.

I rolled my eyes. "That would be _you_ , blondie. Wufei's s'posed to get ten sheets to the wind and if he can tell me that he honestly wants me to stop pestering him about you, I will."

"And how is that going to help?"

I grinned. More peace aunts resisting the day. "Wufei really can't lie for shit when he's drunk."

Zechs looked interested now. "And you're positive that he won't tell you to stop?"

"Damn, blondie, I _told_ you. I got his ass a little bit drunk and he spent two solid hours writing freaking _poetry_ to your voice. Hmm. I should have saved some of it. I coulda used it on Heero cause I suck at poetry."

Zechs and Heero exchanged this look. Then they both smirked at each other in this knowing, supercilious way that was just too annoying for words. Zechs lifted his eyebrows—notice he hasn't mastered the art of the single eyebrow arch like I have, muahahaha—and Heero shrugged slightly, then looked at me.

"Okay guys, if we're all gonna speak stoic soldier-ese, _please_ have a translator handy for those of us who still speak Standard."

Zechs looked amused for a moment, then gave Heero this sort of are you sure? face. Heero smirked again.

"I give up," I whined. Hey, don't underestimate the power of the whine. I've perfected it to the point where I can get under Wufei's skin in fifteen seconds or less with just the pitch of my voice. Well, make it like thirty seconds when he's meditating. "When's good night for you, Zechs? We should do it quick before he tries to weasel out of it."

"Tonight is fine."

"Cool. My place. Our resident Chinese studmuffin never has anything to do anyway." I grinned. "I'll email ya."

Zechs smiled. "Thanks, Duo."

I winked at him and dragged Heero back to the office. Well, I don't suppose I had to actually drag him, but I spent half the war either dragging him where he didn't want to go or getting dragged by him where I didn't want to go because I couldn't ogle his ass when we got there.

I bounced into the office because the door was open. "Great news, Wufei!" I bellowed. "Dorothy Catalonia agreed to donate her eggs to the cause. Just think of all the little Changs with forked eyebrows that you can have in nine months!"

While Wufei gaped at me in utter horror, Trowa sprayed our office with coffee. Most of it from his nose, I believe. Success, baby. Heh.

"Please tell me you're joking, Maxwell."

I grinned cheekily. "You're joking, Maxwell."

Actually, that probably wasn't a bad idea. Doro was just fucked up in the head enough to agree to it if only to bite ol' Wufei on the ass. 

Heero took pity on the poor Wuffie-pooh. "He's joking." 

Wufei sighed in relief.

Heero frowned then, eyeing me suspiciously. "I think."

Wufei turned bright red and squeezed his lips into a teeny tiny little line. I really should tell him that it's unsexy when you swallow your lips or turn them white. How is he suppose to keep a hunk like Zechs interested if he looks like that?

"Relax, Wufei, I haven't asked her yet. I have to strangle her first, _then_ I'll ask if she'll bear your progeny." I sniffed and dropped into my chair. "One thing at a time man. You good for tonight? I'll pick up the liquor and we can do it at my place."

Trowa finished mopping the coffee from the parts of his bangs that got in the way of his spray. "How can she bear Wufei's progeny if you strangle her?"

I snorted my don't ask dumb questions snort. "She's the spawn of Satan, she'll figure it out."

Wufei was glaring at me now. It was only a 4.1, so he must not have been too displeased with the idea of Doro littering his puppies. "I am more than capable of finding a woman to bear my progeny on my own, Maxwell. Stay out of it."

"Hey, if you're wanting someone Chinese, we can always ask Sally Po. Think she'd donate her ovum?"

There was something that sounded suspiciously like a snicker from Trowa and Heero was outright grinning now. Wufei's glare kicked up to a 7.8.

"Okay, we can put an ad in the personals. Smart, Chinese sex god with a stick up his ass seeks good Chinese girl to artificially inseminate. Homophobes need not apply. Must have impeccable lineage and enjoy lectures on justice."

"Maxwell, I have killed others for less of an insult," Wufei growled.

"Yeah, you're right. Sally Po it is. And just think, free medical care for the kids!"

"If you don't respond to him, he gets bored and goes away," Trowa told Wufei helpfully. "It takes years, but it does happen."

I glared at him, but I think my bottom lip was sticking out or something because Heero was giving me his aww, aren't you just cute as hell glare. "Ha fucking ha, Tro. You're not normal. Speaking of which, since your night life is so hoppin, Wu you hot, in-demand stud you, tonight good for that get drunk thing? We can do it at my place. I'll bring the liquor and you just bring your sexy justice ass."

Wufei tossed his God, you're stupid stare at me, then grunted and scribbled something on a notepad. You just know he's not writing anything over there. It's all for effect; one of those studied moves to make you think you've been dismissed. Wu's problem is that he keeps underestimating the power of dumb perseverance. I am the river gnawing relentlessly at the canyon walls of his willpower. The really cool whitewater river that's deadly and beautiful and lures those men brave enough to match their wits and strength against the mysterious and turbulent grace of the, um, yeah. Back to Wufei. He's a dork.

"Great! We can pick up some take out on the way home or something." I scratched the end of my nose. "I need some more liquor."

"We work tomorrow, idiot. I do not get drunk the night before I have to work." Wufei glared. "I refuse to touch that tequila swill of yours. I will bring my own."

"Nothing doing, Wufei. You'll bring that pansy stuff. You promised to get shitfaced, so you will get shitfaced." I grinned evilly. I knew just the stuff to get you shitfaced in one gulp or less, too. That is if Earl was still running loose, terrorizing the local boozehound population. I snatched up my mobile phone and tapped in a few numbers.

"Whatever it is, no!" Earl snarled. He must have gotten caller ID since the last time. 

"But, Earl, baby, you don't even know what I'm calling for. Would your old buddy steer you wrong?"

"In a heartbeat. I'm not violating probation for you again, Maxie, so just shove it up your ass and yank it out your left nostril."

"Jeez, man, I'm not asking you to violate anything here. What I want is perfectly legal."

He snorted.

I grinned. "Mostly."

Wufei was giving me an evil eye now. Trowa looked vaguely interested while Heero was looking worried.

"Whattaya want?" Earl sounded so suspicious that I could practically see his thick lips poking straight out like a carp's and his eyebrows beetling halfway down his nose.

"Well, I wanted to drop by and buy some of that beaded jewelry you make."

Trowa and Wufei exchanged a mystified look. Heero's worried glare shifted into Heero's very worried glare.

"And, since we're buddies, you could share some squeezins."

Earl laughed in my face. Not literally, but you get the idea. "I don't _share_ squeezins."

"You can share squeezins after I pay _a lot of money_ for that cheap jewelry."

"You didn't hear me, son. I don't _share_ squeezins."

"And you didn't hear me, pappy, I'm going to pay _a lot of money_ for your stupid jewelry so you can _shaaaaaaare_ your squeezins!"

"For the love of—Maxwell, just tell the idiot that you're speaking to, your parent no doubt, that you'll buy his stupid moonshine outright." Wufei slammed his pen down. "I cannot believe that I am sitting here listening to a _Preventer_ agent making illicit deals for untaxed and unregulated liquor."

Earl had apparently either heard Wufei—I' wouldn't be surprised if all of China heard Wufei—or he'd finally figured it out. "Oooh! I see. You buy some of my fine jewelry for your girl and as a good proprietor, I'll give you some squeezins." There was a grunt over the phone. "Why didn't I think of this before?" Earl would be back in the hoosegow in a week if he took up this kind of racket, you watch.

"Cause you don't have my natural genius, Earl-buddy. You got any brewed up?"

"Why, Maxie ol' pal, I've got some prime stuff that's done been aged a whole week. I even put my best sweat socks in it. It's my best vintage yet."

Sweat socks. Yuck. "Tell me you're joking about the sweat socks."

Earl laughed. It wasn't as pleasant as, say, Heero's laugh. "'Course I'm joking, Maxie-boy. How much you all need?"

"Enough for four guys and one tight-ass."

"Now boy, I don't wanna hear about none o' yo' homo-sek-shul excapades." Something metal shrieked on Earl's end. "I'll put by a couple jugs fer ya, Maxie."

"Thanks, Earl. See ya round!"

He snorted. "Not if I sees ya first." Then he hung up.

I grinned to the room at large. 

Wufei held up a finger. "I do _not_ want to know anything about this. Particularly what sweat socks have to do with it."

"Four?" Trowa asked.

"I'm getting enough in case you'n Quatre come, too."

"I'd like to be there. A drunk Wufei is too interesting to pass up." Trowa sent a smirk toward the glaring Wu-meister. "Quatre won't show if I'm there."

I blinked. Quatre was head over heels for Trowa, he was almost Relena loooooves Heero over Trowa. "Why not? I thought you two were good friends."

Trowa just looked at me.

I looked back. "Well?"

He blinked. 

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, be that way. See if I care that people I consider some of my best friends in the whole universe and beyond hide things from me."

"I'm glad you don't care, Duo," Trowa said with a smirk. "I'd hate to hurt your feelings."

I wadded up a piece of paper and threw it at him. Bastard. 

Heero leaned over my desk and kissed me briefly. "I need clothes. I'll see you after work."

"Sure, 'Ro. After I drop Wufei off, I gotta swing by Earl's and get the stuff, then I'll be home. Probably around five-ish." I scrunched my face up and gave Wufei the evil-eye. "Unless, Wufei wants to rant some more, then it might take longer."

Wufei gave me a sour look. "Perhaps with Yuy joining the Preventers, I might actually get a decent partner."

I snorted. "Heero's talents are wasted on the field and everyone knows it."

"I'm working in computers," Heero said. "I won't have a partner."

Wufei glared at me as if I had specifically created these circumstances just to annoy him. He abruptly smirked. "I suppose you'll be Agent Dream Sex Kitten, huh?"

The corner of Heero's mouth quirked up. "No. Une wouldn't approve it. Or Duo's Kitten. Or Duo's Dream. Or even just Duo's."

Wufei's jaw unhinged and his face turned white then red and then he abruptly found the interior of his bottom desk drawer fascinating. 

No freaking fair! How in the hell can _Heero_ , of all people, shut Wufei up in one statement and I have to fight the man to a standstill? It's not like _Heero_ holds a black belt in Talk Fu like yours truly!

Heero turned his smirk on me. "You're adorable when you pout, Master."

Trowa giggled. Bastard.

"I'm _not_ pouting!" I glared. "And quit calling me master!" I glared even more because Trowa was now outright grinning enough to split his face in half. "And I'm _not_ adorable! Puppies are adorable! Bunnies are adorable! The God of Death is _not_ adorable!"

All three of them were on the floor, laughing like a bunch of a crazed terrorist hyenas. Okay, maybe not exactly on the floor, but they were sure as hell laughing at me. Especially Wufei. I crossed my arms over my chest, huffed in annoyance, and glared at the wall. This set them off into fresh gales of laughter. Okay, fuck, it's not that goddamned funny!

"Come on, _Agent Duo's_ ," Trowa said between chortles. "Let's get going."

I was too busy pretending to be busy to see if Heero got in a last smirk or smile or blew me a freaking kiss or whatever before the two left. And just when, I'd like to know, did _Trowa_ pick up a freaking sense of humor? And why in the hell did it have to be at _my_ expense? Bastard. Bastard. Bastard.

"Do quit beating your head on the desk, Maxwell. You might dent it and then your scribbling will be even more illegible."

Bastard.

"You see this, Wu? This is me _not_ laughing."

"Spill your guts, Maxwell. I want _all_ of the details or I'll call the Vice Foreign Minister's office and tell her that you know _exactly_ where Yuy is."

I glared at him.

He smiled sweetly at me. Bastard!

"That's low, Wufei, even for you."

"Start talking or I might _accidentally_ let it slip that for some reason Yuy is calling you master. Obviously an unhealthy state of affairs that Yuy should be saved from. You _evil_ beast." Oooh, that rat bastard was enjoying the fuck out of this. This was _war_.

"There's nothing to talk about." I grinned slyly. "Unless you want all the scintillating details about what Heero looks like in nothing but a leather g-string in a collar, you pervert."

He leaned back in his chair and smirked. "I want to know why Yuy is calling you master."

"I _told_ you. That's his story to tell, not mine. Dammit Wu, respect the man's privacy!"

"I'll be more than happy to, when he stops calling you his master in my presence. If he did not mind the questions, he wouldn't have called you that where others can hear it."

"You want to know? Hell, _I_ don't know! I have no fucking idea why he's wearing a collar. I have no fucking idea why he's calling me master. I have no fucking idea what in the fuck he wants from me!" I was the only one in the room who didn't notice that I was standing up now, and yelling. Yeah, I was yelling _really_ loud. "This is Heero Goddamned Yuy we're talking about here. The man that saved the world twice and had the brass balls to give everyone a giant fuck you, bitch before blowing himself to kingdom come!"

Wufei's smirk was gone. I ignored him favor of pacing back and forth behind my desk.

"He just fucking showed up, almost butt ass naked after about a year of being gone. You know? Maybe he's so used to taking orders from that bastard J and Dotty the Super Freak and oh my fucking god, Dekim Barton." I twisted my hands in my braid and tried not to pull my hair out. "Maybe he's so used to taking orders he just wants someone who'll give him orders. What the fuck do I know? I'm just the baka here. But hell, he was pretty damned shitty at taking orders during the war, you know? He was supposed to kill Relena. And me. And help drop a fucking colony on the planet. You see how well he did what he was told. Heero Yuy just isn't subservient, ya know?"

Wufei hummed quietly from his desk, nodding.

I flopped into my chair and glared moodily at the wall. "I don't get it. I come home and he's kneeling in my doorway almost butt ass naked because his Mistress Dorothy the Wonder Witch told him to and she's off blowing the cabbie of all people and Mrs. Clovis wants him to come see about _her_ pipes. There's an image I so don't need. And he won't stop calling me master or sir. Even when I tell him to." Wondering just why in the hell I was giving Wufei any ammo to use against me to begin with, I grew a pair and met his eyes. He wasn't laughing it up like I thought he would be. Or giving me that condescending justicier than thou attitude. The stick was well and truly out of his ass. "I want him to be there because he wants to be, not because he has to be. Not because of Doro's cock harnesses and whippy thingies in my closet and the shit she's making him do. I don't want a sex slave. I want Heero to wash my hair." I dropped my head onto my desk with a solid clunk. "God I'm so fucking pathetic. Go ahead, laugh at me now. Duo the Doofus."

"Duo, do you honestly think that anyone, let alone anyone named Dorothy, can make Yuy do anything he doesn't want to do? Even if this Dorothy has, as you say, whippy thingies?" 

I gaped at him rather stupidly. You know, like one of those big drooly kind of dogs after it got hit with a truck.

He smiled gently. "What could this Dorothy of yours possibly do that would scare Yuy into doing anything he doesn't want to do? This is a man that's survived self-destruction twice, torture at the hands of experts, Colonel Une, and setting his own leg—as you frequently remind me whenever you get so much as a splinter."

My mouth clicked shut. I blinked at him for a few minutes, feeling kind of like a passenger train that just got smacked head on by a really big freight train. "Well, Dr. J and that moron Dekim kinda _did_ make him self-destruct and I don't think he really _wanted_ to, you know."

"And this Dorothy person is capable of threatening vast civilian populaces as well? We should arrest her."

"Well, only if you put up big pictures of her eyebrows everywhere." 

Wufei turned a funny shade of yellow. "Please tell me that you are not speaking of Dorothy _Catalonia_. Please tell me that it's some other Dorothy. Lie if you must."

I grinned at him a bit sheepishly. "I'd lie if I could, Wu."

"If I am not mistaken, you're telling me that Yuy has been Dorothy Catalonia's _sex_ slave?" Wufei turned green. "I'm going to be sick."

I frowned. "You know, that's real funny because Heero said he's gay. How can he be her sex slave? I know she's got a bigger set of gundanium plated balls than the average guy, but she's still sporting indoor plumbing."

"So, sometime after Yuy abruptly left that Peacecraft woman's employ without word to _anyone_ , he, for some inconceivable reason, became Dorothy Catalonia's sex slave. And, after that happened, she sent him to you and now he is _your_ sex slave." Wufei shook his head hard enough to kick more of his hair out of the pony tail. "This makes no sense."

"Maybe he's bi? Or Doro's got a penis? Actually, it wouldn't be so hard to believe that Doro would have a penis. She's just weird that way. And those eyebrows!"

Wufei ignored that. "Nevertheless. Do you honestly believe that Dorothy Catalonia can _make_ Heero Yuy do anything he does not want to do?"

"Well, maybe if she scared him with her eyebrows." Okay, that sounded really stupid.

"So if she can't make him do what he doesn't want to do, why do you assume that he doesn't want to be with you?"

"Because she told him to and she's his mistress and that's just too creepy!"

"If she's his mistress," Wufei paused to shudder, "then why is he calling _you_ master?"

I glared at him. This was Wufei "Why, yes, I _am_ frigid" Chang giving _me_ relationship advice!

He smiled in return. "Why don't you ask him what he wants? And, perhaps, believe him when he tells you that it's you?"

I just _know_ my glare turned all pouty, but I couldn't help it. "I never said anything about not believing him when he says he wants me."

The smile turned a little sad. "You don't have to. It's as obvious as the day to anyone who knows you. Not all of us are lucky enough to have a chance at what we dream of, Duo. You have that opportunity if you just let yourself have a little faith." 

I let my glare melt into a full-fledged pout. Oh shut up, I can pout if I want to.

He arched his eyebrow. "As for now, Maxwell, we have work that requires our attention."

"Wu?"

" _Work_ , Maxwell."

"Why can't you be this nice to me in front of witnesses?"

His eyes bored into mine for a moment. "Because you are an idiot and, as the sole surviving member of the Dragon Clan, I have both dignity and a reputation to maintain."

He _would_ have to smirk. Bastard.


	6. When Godzilla Comes A-Visiting

"Duo Maxwell! When I get my hands on you, you're going to _wish_ that I'd brought an anesthesiologist along!"

You know, you'd think that in a professional, para-military organization such as the Preventers, there would be a lot less bellowing going on. And the death threats? Don't get me started. I should really have a conversation with Commander Une about hostile working conditions and hazardous duty pay.

The door to our office crashed open and I looked up at the enraged valkyerie and plastered an innocent look on my face. Show time.

"Sally?"

"You wretch!"

First, a little tactical misdirection. I blinked at her. "Did I do something to make you mad?"

"Oh, no you don't, you little bastard. You're not wiggling your way out of _this_. You know damned good and well what you did."

It took some doing, but I put a guilty look on my face. "I promise that Wufei doesn't know anything about it! It was just a joke!"

Sally choked on her next howl of outrage. "What?"

"Er, nothing?"

She glared. "Exactly _what_ doesn't Chang know about?"

I grinned sheepishly and scooted the chair very carefully away from her. "Er, nothing, nothing at all. I must have been thinking of, um, something. Yeah, er, something...."

"Duo Maxwell."

"Really!"

She bared her teeth. "I can lose your shot records."

"I have ten copies."

"And schedule you for a prostate exam." She grinned and it _so_ wasn't very becoming of lady. "With _me_."

"Oh, now Sal—"

"Don't you now Sally me. Fess up or I'll turn your gay man's best friend into your worst proctological nightmare."

"Well, ah, you see, it's like this. Wufei's bag was just sitting there in the locker room after working out and well, he left his, er, I shouldn't say this in front of a lady like—"

"I was the leader of a group of guerillas. There's nothing I haven't heard. Don't try to weasel it out of it," she growled through clenched teeth. Okay, now that was kind of scary.

"Well, it seemed like such a good idea at the time, so I kind of, er, _appropriated_ Wufei's undershorts for you. I was doing it just for you! Honest!"

"Under—" She shook her head. " _Undershorts_? What _undershorts_?"

I blinked. "You, um, haven't, um, found them?" 

"I'm talking about the roaches!" she bellowed.

"What roaches?" Not too innocent. A sprinkle of confusion, a touch of curiosity, and enough of a grin that says oh, let me in on the joke!

"The rubber roaches _you_ put in my examining room right before I had to give Ms. Finnegan her yearly physical. _The_ Ms. Finnegan from Human Resources who is convinced that I'm better off replaced with her son-in-law!" Ooh, tone down the shriek, girl.

I winced in sympathy. "Ouch, that must have been ugly."

"Dammit, Duo!"

Sometimes I think I should change my name to Dammit Duo Maxwell. D.D. Maxwell. Has a ring to it, no? "What? You can't think that _I_ did it!"

She glared a glare only women can pull off. An I have PMS and a dull butcher knife glare. I've seen it on Dorothy and let me tell you, those eyebrows and that glare belong in the Horror Hell Hall of Fame.

"I don't _think_ you did it, I _know_ you did it!"

Ha, you do not. Not a single one of those security cameras saw me, let alone any of her people. I stuck my bottom lip out—hey, you got to make adorable work for you. "I know I play a lot of jokes to cheer people up, but jeez, Sally, not _everything_ fun that goes on around here is my fault!"

"Right. Tell me you didn't do it, straight out."

And now to shift the blame to another, um, _potential_ perpetrator. "Well, I do have to admit that they're probably mine—"

"I _knew it_!"

"—but the last time I saw any of my bugs, Wufei was playing with them." Which was true enough. I bugged her torture chamber first and then bugged Wufei's coffee. He was off washing his mug and cursing all of my ancestors right now. And probably cooling off a little bit. For a minute there, I thought he really was going to kill me. The man has no sense of humor.

She had her eyebrow arched. Jeez, can all Chinese people do that or just the Preventer kind? "Right. Why would Chang Wufei, Mister, as you put it, No Sense of Humor, put fake roaches in my examination room?"

I flinched, just a little bit, and stared really hard at her neck. "I didn't say he did it." Just a touch sullen and a little bit of braid fiddling for effect.

" _Did_ he do it?"

I jerked my head to glare at the wall. "I sure as hell never saw him do it."

In my peripheral vision, I could see her settle back a bit and cross her arms over her chest.

I turned a blinding grin, full of teeth and twinkles, on her. "Like you said, why would Mr. No Sense of Humor pull a practical joke on you? You guys are tight and stuff. I mean, he's not like me. When I figured out that I really, really liked Heero, I put a rubber snake in his bed." I gave a rueful little chuckle that sounded completely fake and squeezed my braid in both hands. "Wufei just doesn't seem to be that kind of a guy, right? Not like me." I did the nervous chuckle thing and let it trail off.

"Thank you, Duo. You've been most helpful." She smiled sweetly before stomping off down the hallway. "Chang Wufei!"

No, Sally, thank _you_. 

I permitted myself a small Chang Wufei style smirk before turning my attention back to my pile of research. I am _such_ a genius.

Thirty minutes later Wufei stormed into the office and slammed the door so hard it bounced off the jamb and hit the wall again. It took him three more slams before he did it gently enough to keep the thing closed. He marched to his desk and stood, fists clenched. He took a deep breath, held it until his face turned red, then slowly let it go. Then he did it again. I watched him curiously as he yanked his ponytail out, well, what was left of it, then smoothed his hair back into its usual slicked back queue and wrapped the band around it. Then he did the breathing thing again. Weird.

A moment later, his butt hit his chair and he stabbed a few buttons on his vidphone. "The Vice Foreign Minister," he growled.

I frowned. What in the hell would Wufei want with Relena?

"She's not taking calls at the moment, may I take a message?" I knew from experience that Relena's secretary was just as snooty as Relena herself.

Wufei ground his teeth together. "It's about Heero Yuy."

I surged to my feet. "Wufei! No!"

"The Vice Foreign Minister is very busy, Agent."

I bounced around the desk, heading directly for the off switch.

"Oh for the love of—What was that idiotic thing that idiot woman called it? It was something _ridiculous_. Oh yes. Code Deep Velvety Prussian Blue Like the Mysterious Ocean Depths. Maxwell, you touch that vidphone and I will lop off your hands." Then the bastard put his hand on my face and shoved me backwards.

"Oh! One moment, sir. I'll priority connect you."

Wufei fended me off with a little bit of kung fu long enough for Relena's face to pop up on the vidscreen. "Hello? Is anyone—oh, Wufei! You have news for me? Is that Duo? What on earth is he doing?"

"You jerk!" I yelled, tackling him bodily.

"Minister," Wufei gasped out, using a nerve pinch to get my arm out from around his neck. "Maxwell has been in contact with Yuy."

I yanked on his ponytail. "You asshole!"

"I have reason to believe that—Maxwell!" He deftly twisted, avoiding getting hit by the chair as we tumbled to the floor, me on top.

"Don't listen to him, Relena!" I yelled. "He's just pissed off because of some—ouch!" He flipped us neatly over because, well, he had a hold of my braid and was yanking like a total asshole who didn't get the concept of sportsmanlike conduct. "Bastard!"

"Duo? Where is he? Have you seen him? Is he okay? Where has he been? Has he mentioned me? Duo? Duo!"

I almost bucked him off, but Wufei rode it out like a trooper. "I saw Yuy this afternoon. He's staying with Ma—mmph!" 

I shoved my braid in his mouth and shut him the hell up.

"I see," Relena said, very, very coldly. "Thank you, Wufei. Duo Maxwell, you should be _ashamed_ of yourself."

The vidscreen clicked off.

Wufei spit out my hair and jumped off of me, backing away and twisting his face into this odd hateful glare/all knowing smirk combo.

I sat up and shoved my bangs up to glare back. "How in the hell could you do that?!"

"How? You ask me _how_ after what you've done? I should kill you where you sit!"

"I didn't sic Relena on your ass!"

"You had the she-beast believing that _I_ would stoop to dishonoring myself by hiding plastic insects in her examining room!" he roared. "Do you have no sense of common decency under all that hair?"

I couldn't help it. I started giggling. I clamped my hands over my mouth, but the laughter still poured out. "Oh, c'mon, Wu, even _you_ gotta admit that it was funny."

He looked affronted. "It was not!"

"C'mon, just imagine the look on Freaky Finnegan's face? I bet she spit out that lemon she's always sucking on!"

He so cracked a smile. He got it back under wraps real quick, but he cracked it.

"Besides, I only did it 'cause Sally wrecked your car."

He slumped against the wall and groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Maxwell, we are not fifteen any longer. We are professionals with a great deal of responsibility. This means that we are to behave with a certain amount of decorum. While I do appreciate that you've... _thought_ enough of me to obtain a...measure of vengeance for a wrong, I cannot appreciate the manner in which you've gone about doing so."

"In other words, you're still cheesed because I made Sally think that you're the one who did it."

He ground his teeth together loud enough to do the fingernails on a chalkboard screech down my spine, hell you could probably hear it three floors down. "No. In other words, grow up! Behave like an adult! Cease with these grammar school pranks you constantly play and act like a Preventer is supposed to act!"

I sighed. "Jeez, Wufei, I thought you liked fighting with Sally, too. It always puts a sparkle in your eye and you relax a lot after that. Wasn't it you who said that for an idiotic woman with the charm and temperament of a starved wolverine, she is remarkably satisfying to argue with? You're just too much of a chauvinist pig to pick fights with her so someone's gotta help you out."

Wufei looked miffed. You know how a Persian cat can look really miffed when you feed it a brand of cat food that it thinks is beneath its dignity? Put a too-tight pony tail on it and you've got Wufei being miffed. "I said nothing of the sort."

"I recorded it."

"Will you _please_ stop helping me?"

I smiled at him. "Someday, when you don't need my help anymore."

"I don't need your help now!"

"Of course you do. I'm the only living creature that can put up with you for any length of time. Even your plastic plant died. As wonderful as I am, Wu, that's not exactly saying much about you coming out of your cage and joining the rest of the human race."

"I am just fine as I am, Maxwell. It's none of your affair how I live."

I snorted and stood up, dusting my fanny off even though all of the surfaces on Wufei's side of the office were usually clean enough to eat off of. "Right. When was the last time you did anything with anyone besides me and the occasional lunch with Sally so you can _pretend_ you're dating someone? Hell, does Sally even know you've been casually dating her?"

He glared at me.

And for the peace resisting day aunts, "There is something seriously wrong when Quatre won't even put up with you."

"I am _not_ that bad."

"Yes you are. What's really sad is that you're not like that. You're a great guy. You're not the type to be the life of the party, but you're the kind of guy who makes a great friend. You just gotta quit acting like a complete dickhead because you're not. You're only a partial dickhead."

He snorted in was probably supposed to be disgust but didn't quite cut it. "You know nothing about me."

I grinned at him, shoving my hands into my pockets. He'd moved past the physical violence phase. "I know ya love me, man. Don't worry, I love you, too. Like a friend though. It's not that you're not a complete hottie, babe. If I hadn't met Heero first, I'd be _all_ over your sexy ass."

"Why me? By all of the gods greater and lesser, why _me_?" he moaned dramatically and covered his face again.

It's pretty safe to say that Duo Maxwell has never met up with a rhetorical question that didn't get answered anyway. Heh, Colonel Une near on broke my jaw over a couple of them back when she was gloating about my imminent execution. "Because I think you're pretty damned special, buddy."

"Idiot. You're a complete idiot." See? Told you Wufei loves me.

I bounced over to him in two bounds and wrapped him in a patented Duo Maxwell Blitzkrieg Hug. It was actually designed for extreme Chang Wufei applications and has been extensively field tested on Chang Wufei himself in various moods and locales. And I've never gotten hit either. Well, once, but I was half drunk and he was tweaking on adrenaline so that doesn't count. He took a swing at me, but I managed to duck it easily enough. Wufei really loves being hugged. He just doesn't like to admit it. Of course, Wufei hates to admit anything unless you make him. He's lucky I love him so much.

I dropped into my chair and flipped open a file.

Wufei glowered at me for a full five minutes before sitting himself with all of the grace and dignity of an offended Mother Superior. Trust me on this one, if you _ever_ meet a Mother Superior and she gets the idea that you're catholic, you do _not_ want to offend her. Anyway. He tapped his pen on his desk a couple of times, jiggled in his chair for thirty seconds, and then aimlessly ruffled his papers. "Maxwell."

"It's really okay, Wufei. I forgive you for being a total prick."

He snorted in disdain or disgust or something. "I fear that my vaguely rash and completely justifiable actions—which you induced—in contacting the Vice Foreign Minister might have some repercussions on Yuy. While she will satisfactorily torture you, which is no loss, I do not wish to see Yuy inconvenienced for your idiocy."

I grinned at him, but only because it annoyed him. What kind of fucked up logic was that? It was _my_ fault _he_ called Relena? But that's Chang Wufei in a nutshell. If he had to choose between apologizing, admitting he was wrong about something, or a long torturous death that lasted a thousand years, he wouldn't even blink before picking death. Hell, he'd probably say please and thank you for it. "Apology accepted. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He glared. "I was _not_ apologizing to you, idiot. We must warn Yuy about that Peacecraft woman."

Oh shit. Relena. Heero. "Chang, if this stupid stunt of yours ruins my chances with Heero, I'm going to kill you slow. I will torture you to death in ways that even the most sadistic serial killer would find inventive and impressive. Are we clear?"

"Why do you persist in proving how much of an idiot you are every time you open your mouth? Call Yuy and inform him that you've once again—"

"Me! _I'm_ not the fucking moron that called a Code Deep Shiny Blanket Blue Like Mars's Open Pets!"

Wufei laughed at me and it wasn't his nice one either. "It's Code Deep Velvety Prussian Blue Like the Mysterious Ocean Depths."

"It's kind of fucking pitiful that you know that. Unless you've been mooning over Heero, too."

Wufei treated me to another glare and snatched up his phone. " _I'll_ call Yuy. What is his number?"

"I dunno. I don't think he has a phone."

Wufei growled in Mandarin—he's so dumb if he thinks I can't understand Chinese—and stabbed a few buttons. "Barton, put Yuy on." Wufei paused to smirk at me. What _ever_. "Yuy, I have news. The Vice Foreign Minister is aware that you are currently staying with Maxwell."

At least he didn't blame me for it.

"Yuy? Did you hear?" He glared at me as if this were all my fault. Bastard. "Maxwell has—Yuy, there is no need to yell. I am aware that Maxwell is trus—Yuy. Yuy. Yuy!" He shook the phone. "Maxwell did not inform that Peacecraft woman. He is an idiot with no concept of danger, but he does have _some_ self-preservation instincts." 

Sometimes, I really wanted to hit that arrogant bastard. Maybe he just needed a good ass-whupping. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that Wu? You're goddamned lucky I love you like a brother, or I'd have to do something really mean to you."

He ignored me. "The truth of the matter is that Maxwell provoked me in a manner that simply could not be tolerated and I retaliated in a like manner." His glower deepened. "Yes. Yes." He nodded. "Of course. I understand you might feel that way considering that you have managed to brainwash yourself where that idiot is concerned, but it's still _his_ fault. Stop yelling, Yuy." Wufei's glare turned positively murderous. "You've threatened to kill me before and we can all see how far—Yuy. Yuy!"

Snickering, I stood up and swung my uniform jacket over my shoulder. "Tell Heero that I'm heading home and I got my phone with me. I'll call Tro with an update if Princess Pink shows her obsessed ass up."

"I can't, he hung up."

"One of these days, bucko, you're gonna have to admit when you're wrong."

He turned a funny shade of red. "I'm perfectly capable of doing so, Maxwell."

"Right. You coming?"

He glowered. "Unlike _some_ people, I have work to accomplish."

"Jeez, man, I've been done with all that crap you told me to do for like an hour now." Wait for it.... Wait for it....

He blinked, his jaw dropping open, then closing. Then he tried to inhale and exhale at the same time, setting off a round of choking that turned him a deep purple red. God, I loved doing that to him. You'd think he'd have learned by now. Hell even Une figured out that I'm a workhorse; it's just that I'm a horse that can't be corralled. Though to be honest, Zechs had to explain it to her a few times. Wufei, well, let's just say that the Wuffster can't take the stick out of his ass long enough to see that there's more to Duo Maxwell than a fabulously sparkling personality. If it wasn't for Heero, or Zechs, gotta respect the man's claim. Sheesh, what's with me and repressed Asian boys? To be honest, though, if Heero is into that kinky leather stuff and it weirds me out, doesn't that make me the repressed one? Quite the conundrum. 

"Hey, Wu? If Heero is into kinky leather sex and I think it's creepy, does that make me more repressed than Heero?"

Wufei turned red, then snarled, "I will catch a taxi."

"You sure? It's no trouble to take you home."

He turned an even brighter shade of red and refused to meet my eyes. "I have work to finish."

I looked down the hall, spotting Zechs' blonde head bent over his desk. Heh heh heh. Perfect. I couldn't've set it up better myself. "Hey, Zechs! I gotta jet and Wufei needs a ride home. You gonna be sticking around for a while? Give him a lift?"

"Maxwell! I am perfectly capable of dealing with my transportation issues on my own!"

Zechs looked up and smiled at me. He nodded. "No problem!"

"For shame, Wufei, I'd never leave a friend in need. See ya!"

There were no pink monstrosities parked outside of my apartment building when I got home. Thank fucking God. Heero wasn't back yet, so I took the opportunity to change into some flannel pj pants and a cut off t shirt—can I help it if the pants ride low on my hips and cling to my butt and made Hilde drool last time she visited—clean the place up a little, and make some Italian for dinner. I didn't want Heero to think I was some kind of a slob loser. I was a bit less than neat, shall we say, when we bunked together back in the day. Am I even old enough to use the phrase "back in the day"? Anyway. I wanted to make a good impression. If I closed my eyes and thought really hard, I could still feel his arms wrapped around me and his husky "My Duo" echoing in the stairwell. I wanted it to be real so bad, but I still couldn't understand why Heero—we're talking _Heero Yuy_ here, the man who saved the world twice, the living incarnation of all that is perfect about humanity, _the_ hottest hunk ever who could have anyone he wanted, up to and including the Queen of the Universe—why would Heero want _me_? Little old nobody me? I mean, I didn't even know how to use a tube of toothpaste until I met up with the Sweepers. Why would someone as wonderful as Heero want to wash _my_ hair?

Yes, I even vacuumed under the bed. I was gonna pull the fridge out and clean behind it, too, just in case 'cause Heero can get all anal like that in point two seconds, but the front door opened and I could hear Heero say something to Trowa and I couldn't really think of a good excuse to be cleaning behind the fridge without looking like a kiss up or something.

"Hey guys! How as your afternoon? I got some rice chicken stuff in the oven. My day went okay, but Wufei got another bug up his ass after you left, but that's not unusual. I think it'd be a bad day for Wu if he didn't get a bug up his ass at least once a day, ya know? He's all uptight and repressed like that." God _damn_ Heero looked good in my jeans and my t shirt. Even if he was still wearing that stupid collar.

Heero blushed, just a little, tilted his head down a bit, and shyly—yeah, Heero does shy—half smiled at me. He was, he was so, damn. I found myself smiling back just as shyly. He was just so cute. His smile grew, just a little bit more, and he met my eyes just a little bit more and I blushed, ducking my chin until I could only see him from the corners of my eyes. His weight shifted a little and his sweet smile turned into an embarrassed little smirk. It took everything I had not to squeal out a _kawaii!_ but there was nothing I could do to keep the smile on my own face from growing. That just made me blush harder. 

"Hello, Duo," Trowa said. The bastard was snickering. "So are two just going to stand there?"

Oi! Heero must think I'm a complete idiot standing there grinning and blushing like an idiot just because he's so cute! I put a grin on and tried to pretend that I wasn't doing a damned good imitation of tomato. "No, sorry, just a little, er distracted." 

Heero flashed a wide, beautiful smile—you think he's gorgeous when he glares, that's _nothing_ like when he smiles. It's like sun coming out of the clouds, birds singing in the morning, double cheese extra pepperoni pizza fresh from the oven beautiful. "I'll just put these away," he said, lifting the bags. I couldn't help grinning as he took _his_ things to _my_ bedroom. 

Trowa laughed outright, then sprawled on my couch. The man's all legs, you know? He took up the whole damned thing and it was the biggest, cushioniest couch I could find, too. I about had to beat Doro off with a stick when I picked it out. She hates it, said it was just _so_ bachelor in that bored supercilious snooty bitch way of hers. When informed that I was a bachelor, she stuck her nose in the air and said I was a _gay_ bachelor, therefore I should have superb taste and skip the beer commercial decor. I had to point out that the guy in back with the tie clip had a big nose before she left me alone long enough to close the deal on the couch. 

I checked the food because coming out of the kitchen got me a great shot down the hallway and into my bedroom where I could see part of Heero's body carefully arranging his purchases in a corner. We'd have to get another chest of drawers for his things. Something inside of me shivered in delight and I had to grin all over again. Down boy. It's just until he's on his feet and stuff. Swallowing the sigh that wanted to let the world know how disappointed I was about it, I went over and dropped into my recliner.

Trowa was still Mr. Grinning-Britches. Butthead. "So I hear that someone called Miss Relena."

I glowered as evilly as I could. "Wufei did. He got all pissed off because I sicced Sally on him."

"Oh?"

Heero dropped down on the floor beside me, leaning up against my legs. I had my fingers threaded through his hair before I could remember that I wasn't supposed to be taking advantage of him. He practically purred and his hair was so soft and I couldn't remember a single reason why I shouldn't continue petting him.

"Sally? Wufei?" Trowa prompted.

"Oh. Yeah. I put my rubber roaches in her exam room of torturous death and she didn't find them until she was giving Freaky Finnegan a physical. Now that's enough to give me nightmares for a week. Anyway, I managed to convince her that Wufei did it."

"How—nevermind. I don't want to know." Trowa shook his head.

"Anyway, they had a nice little shouting match and Wu got uber pissed at me. He decided to retaliate by calling in Princess Pink's Code, uh what the hell was it?"

"Code Deep Velvety Prussian Blue Like the Mysterious Ocean Depths?" Trowa said helpfully.

"What in the hell is that?" Heero demanded, twisting his face to look up at me.

"That would be what you have to tell Relena's staff to get priority connected to her at any time of day or night with any information leading to you," Trowa said. "She emails me about it once a week or so."

I pouted. "I never get any mail from her."

Trowa smirked. "That's because she doesn't like you."

"Yeah, yeah. Lucky me." I brushed my hand over Heero's hair again. I'm not the least bit ashamed to admit that I was really getting into the way the stiffer strands would brush along my palm and send major tingles shooting all the way down to my toes while the softer strands sort of just kissed it and made it all better. Rough and gentle, coarse and tender. That was my Heero. _My_ Heero. Oh, I wish.... _Heero_.

"Duo," he murmured, a small smile on his mouth and his fingers sliding over my knee.

"Ugh." Trowa said. I couldn't tell if he was grimacing or not because Heero was smiling at me. "You two are too disgustingly cute to tolerate. I'll see you later. Email me, Heero." Then he was gone.

I couldn't even take issue with being referred to by that evil and heinous girl-cootie word: _cute_. The God of Death could be not cute later. Right now, Heero was smiling at me.

"Heero, wha—" _what do you want_? I chickened out. Me, the God of Death and scourge of Ozzies and Wufeis everywhere, turned yellow. I couldn't ask him that. Not yet. He looked up at me with those blue eyes and little smile and I just wanted to sit there and pretend it was forever. That he wouldn't find someone better once he got himself back together. Someone that he deserved. Like the Queen of the Universe. "Why did you leave Relena?" Oh shit. I didn't mean to say _that_.

He looked briefly pained. "I'm gay."

Oh yeah. Amazing how you can forget the details in the midst of self-flagellation. "Oh."

"She wanted me to be something I couldn't. She wouldn't take no for an answer, so I left."

We sat there staring at each other for a few minutes before I figured out that we were going to play the old twenty questions game. "What'd she do? Try to trick you into going out with her or something?"

He looked vaguely disgusted. "Marriage."

I blinked. I can't say I was surprised, but it was kind of a surprise. I guess I always pictured them getting married. He gave her a teddy bear, you know? He wouldn't know anything about giving presents and he did it for her. 

"She started buying bridal magazines and Dorothy—" not Mistress. Yes! Yes! Yes! "—said she was making marriage noises. I asked who Relena planned on marrying and Dorothy said me."

"Did you just leave then?"

"I didn't believe her. Relena had never mentioned anything to me. Four evenings later, however, she left her bridal magazine on my pillow with engagement ring ads marked. Relena admitted that she'd left it to give me hints when I confronted her with it. Dorothy offered me a place to stay until I figured out what I wanted and I left that morning."

"When I heard you'd disappeared, I was, um, kinda hoping you'd come to me." I could have just kicked myself for saying that. Smooth, Maxwell, very smooth.

He smiled that sweet smile again, though it seemed a bit sad. "I wanted to, but you were with Hilde and I didn't want to...intrude."

"But I wasn't—"

"I know that. Now."

We sat there quietly for a few minutes before I couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, I gotta know. How does a gay gundam pilot become a, er, sex slave to Dorothy Catalonia?"

He blushed again and started fiddling with the cuffs of his jeans. "I was considering either college or Preventers when you suddenly signed up and moved to Brussels. Alone. I planned to join immediately, but...."

I tilted my head so I could see his face a little more clearly. "But?"

"But I didn't know if you would be receptive to me or how to find out." His fingers curled around the cuffs and squeezed. "Since Dorothy was already a Preventer, she offered to find out what you wanted."

Suddenly, all of those lunch conversations with Doro where I'd complained and whined and wished I'd had a slave to do everything from scrub the toilet to washing my hair came rushing back to me. I slapped my forehead and groaned. "I didn't literally want a slave, God, I was just whining. You know how I like to complain."

"That's what Dorothy said, but, I, um," his voice dipped to an embarrassed near-whisper, "liked the idea. So I asked her to teach me for you."

You could have slapped me upside the head with an elephant and I wouldn't have noticed. I couldn't think of anything to say. Not a damned thing. So, naturally, I blurted. "But what about Dekim Barton? I thought he was your first master?"

He smirked up at me, side-long. "He had a hand in training me, as a soldier. And he liked to be called _Master_ Barton. But he never did anything like _that_."

"I'd be pissed at you for tricking me, but that's just too much of a relief to hear." Oh thank fucking God, too. Just the _thought_ gave me creepy crawlies.

He twisted onto his knees, between my legs, his hands clutching at my thighs, and he leaned up until his eyes locked on mine. "You are my master."

"Please quit calling me that. I don't want a slave."

He shook his head. "No."

"Dammit, Heero, quit being stubborn."

He yanked my hand out of my lap and pressed it to his chest. I could feel his heart beating like a red lined engine. "You _are_ my master."

"Heero." So I was whining, sue me, I'm damned good at it.

He pulled my hand out far enough to press a wet kiss to my palm, then trailed my fingers along his jaw before sucking my middle finger into his steamy hot mouth. I went from vaguely perky to gundanium boner in point zero one—have I mentioned that zero one is my favorite number, I should have—seconds. It is unutterably embarrassing to get a complete hard on when you're wearing loose pj pants and the object of your affection's face is only about a foot away from your lap. I almost poked his eye out. God, I just _had_ to go commando so I wouldn't have any panty lines. Heero's teeth scraped delicately along the inner pad of my finger and I wondered just when in the hell it had gotten so damned sensitive. I closed my eyes and prayed very, very hard that Heero wouldn't just happen to notice my circus tent impression and if he absolutely _must_ notice the geomorphological landscape of my flannel, please let him be impressed with my equipment.

My finger slid out of his mouth and he pressed my palm to his cheek, nuzzling against it. He was so soft and warm. I couldn't believe how good he felt against my hand. Then he moved and my hand just naturally curled around his head to sink into his hair. I loved his hair. Then there was pressure surrounding the head of my dick. And there was hot and moist heat on the tip. And before my mind could connect the dots and make the picture, I opened my eyes and looked down and everything inside of me exploded in this huge hazy self-destruct sequence of wet joy. Heero's mouth was on my penis. Oh. My. God. _Heero's_ mouth was on _my_ cock. There was white and stars and the image of Heero's mouth on my erection burned permanently into my retinas and there was beeping and mewling—when did I get a cat?—and all of my blood was rushing around like citizens of Tokyo when Godzilla came a-visiting but didn't know exactly where to go. 

By the time I got enough blood and oxygen to my brain where it would do some good resuscitating my shocked and awed brain cells, the mewling had changed to panting and the beeping had receded into the distance. I blinked the ceiling into focus and suddenly became hyperaware of the fact that I'd just had an orgasm. 

Heero climbed into my lap and pressed a wet kiss to my lips. He nuzzled the side of my neck and hugged me until all I could smell was Heero and sperm and let me tell you, that scent is 200 proof intoxicating. "My Duo," he said with his deeply satisfied ninmu kanryu rumble. "My master."

Then he climbed off my lap and went into the kitchen. I watched his butt, completely bemused. My platoon of brain cells were running around inside of my head trying to figure out what in the hell just happened, who had the goddamned map, and where in the hell the captain had gotten off to this time. I licked my lips and tasted cum. The beeping stopped and the oven opened, smells of baked chicken and rice threatened to overwhelm the smells of Heero and seminal fluid. I licked my lips again, just to verify. Yes, that was definitely ejaculate and I didn't need a forensic specialist to tell me that. And Heero had put it there when he kissed me. And considering where his mouth had been a few minutes ago....

Oh. My. _God_.


	7. I'm a Living, Breathing Girl-Cootie Word

So much for impressing Heero with my prowess. I went from limp to erection to ejaculation and back to limp all in about sixty seconds. Hell, it takes me more time to unzip and tinkle, even outside on a cold day. God, not only was I a slob loser, but I was a slob loser with a little dick and no stamina. A premature ejaculator. I was sexually dysfunctional and I haven't even had sex yet! How much a loser can one man be? I'm a virgin with premature ejaculation syndrome and a tiny winky. It's not like I'm even a virgin by choice either. I was fifteen when I met the man of my dreams, the love of my life and all that. It's not like I was physiologically inclined toward sex before I met up with the Sweepers and once I did, daily visits with G and his schnozz were enough to completely ruin the post-puberty idyll of wet dreams, masturbation, and illicit porno mags let alone finding someone around that was young enough to play Little Duo and His First Proctological Exam with—hey, when you're 14, anyone over the age of 16 is ancient. After I met up with Heero, I got a little bit interested—I don't care if Hilde does say completely obsessed in ways that make Relena Peacecraft look mentally balanced—and I've been trying to get over him ever since. I mean, who in the hell am I gonna find that can hold their own against Heero Yuy? Can we say no one? Thought so. God, that's even more pathetic. I'm a slob loser with a little dick and premature ejaculation disorder and a virgin because I'm obsessed with a guy I can't have. And the guy that I'm obsessed with that I can't have just gave me the world's shortest blow job. And why was it the world's shortest blow job? Because I saw his mouth connected to my dick and I came. Badda boom, badda bing. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 creds.

Embarrassment, thy name is Duo "Heero Obsessed Slob Loser Virgin with Little Dick and Sexual Dysfunction" Maxwell.

At least I'm cute.

I curled up with my face in my knees and whimpered. What a resume for the God of Death. A _cute_ slob loser virgin with a little dick and premature ejaculation issues obsessed with his boyhood crush. Can you see why they're beating my door down? My only redeeming virtue is a girl-cootie word. 

To be perfectly fair, though, my penis has served me well all of these years. It's always been there for me. I've never had jock itch, or the burning when you pee sensation some of the Sweepers had pretty much after every port of call. It's been my little buddy and a source of both stress relief and entertainment for years. It's been a real pal and never driven me crazy enough to stick it places that sane men fear to thrust—like in Dorothy Catalonia or in Quatre "I'm going Zero; you won't _like_ me when I'm Zero" Winner's bang-sporting dream boy. Through thick and thin, it's been there for me, always. My little guy has never let me down.

Spreading my legs a bit, I leaned my cheek on my knee, sniffled, and patted my little buddy. "I don't care that you're little or that you've got a hair trigger. You're my Little Scythe and you're good enough for me." I pulled my fingers away and wrinkled my nose. "And you're sticky." 

An amused exhale had me looking up past my sticky fingers. I wanted to crawl under the couch and never come out. Ever. Heero was standing over me, a plate in his hands, and smiling that awww isn't he just the cutest thing? kind of a smirk. See why Embarrassment is my middle name? I should put in a requisition to have my way cool Preventer code name changed to Agent Embarrassment. No, can't do that. Wufei would like it too much. He already carries on about how I'm an embarrassment to our fine agency and his perfect record. He gets pretty pissed when I tell him that I don't consider breaking his new partner every other week losing streak a perfect record.

I tried to grin disarmingly, but I doubt Heero was disarmed because I couldn't get my face out from behind my hands, one of which was kinda sticky. "You, uh, been there long?"

"Our Scythe is good enough for me, too."

"But—"

His hand slipped over the sticky spot in my pjs and squeezed. My dick perked right up to say howdy. "It's the perfect size." He grinned ferally and crawled into my lap again, pushing my knees apart to make room for himself. "It will fit down my throat and it'll rub me inside in exactly the right spot."

Color me stupid, but it took me a few minutes to segue from down my throat—down boy—to rubbing me inside. And don't think that my platoon of brain cells didn't duck and cover while my cerebral cortex pressed the self-destruct button when I finally figured out what he meant, complete with mental image and an insta-gro erection. And all I could think was oh, yes please!

"Have faith in our Scythe." He was smirking, I could just hear it in his voice. "You _always_ rise to the occasion, Master."

I groaned into my palms and squeezed my eyes shut. "Quit calling me that."

He pried my hands from my face and pressed his forehead to mine. "You are my Master," he said, then licked my nose. I scrunched it up and tried to glare at him. He smirked. 

"Heero—oooh." How in the hell was I supposed to carry on an intelligent, well, at least a semi-articulate conversation with actual words in decipherable human language when his lips and teeth and oh my God even his tongue were sliding along my cheek and jaw with a quick stop off at my ear? 

Heero was _licking_ me. Oh my God. Heero Yuy was licking _me_. And he was in my lap licking me!

Something cool rubbed along my lower lip, slipping back and forth. He sucked on my earlobe for a moment. "Open your mouth, Master." I shivered and my eyes drifted shut, couldn't help it. His breath was so hot and so close to my skin. And his voice. Oh dear God his voice. You know that instant right before you prematurely ejaculate and prove beyond all doubt that you're a washout as a stud? That instant when your whole being is making a vigorous solar flare look like an ice cube and everything is singing so loud in perfect harmony with the universe that your brain seizes up and you're too deep in sheer pleasure to remember that you're a sexually dysfunctional twit? Yeah, that moment. That exact instant is what Heero's voice is. It's the verge of orgasm. It's the promise of ultimate pleasure. It's fucking sex translated by vocal chords. "Open up, my Master."

My lips opened and his fingers slipped inside with something that tasted like Heero and tart and sweet. His fingers slid back out of my mouth to trace my lip, warm and wet. "Eat, my Master," he murmured, then licked the flesh beneath my ear. Trying not to moan, I bit down. A grape. There was a grape in my mouth. I'm relatively certain that I didn't own any grapes. He nibbled along my jaw. I moaned anyway and swallowed the thing in my mouth. Screw owning grapes. For a few moments at least, I owned Heero's lips on my throat and Heero's breath on my skin and Heero's body between my legs. Oh dear God. Heero was between my legs. I about ejaculated before I had a chance to prematurely ejaculate.

His tongue traced the crease in my lips and I could feel the heat of his breath against my mouth before his tongue slipped inside. He teased the roof of my mouth, wallowed with my tongue, and lapped at my teeth before withdrawing. I wanted to chase him back into his own mouth, but he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbled delicately. He let go, nuzzling at my throat with a rumbling purr of satisfaction. 

Something cool and wet touched my lips, running over them both. I opened my mouth and tasted melon. Instead of his finger, his lips were there and his tongue pressed it inside. He licked and nipped at my lips while my melting brain tried to decide what to do with the lump of quasi-mushy stuff in my mouth. 

"Eat, Master," he ordered, then tugged at my ear with his lips. Eat? I could barely _breathe_. Hesitantly, I worked my jaws and felt another satisfied purr rumble against my skin. "Good Master." His tongue rolled over my jugular, where my pulse was trying to jackhammer its way into the world, and over my chin while I swallowed. "Good Master," he said again, then slid his tongue back into my mouth. "Mmm," he growled before withdrawing. My tongue chased his, slipping between his lips. He sucked on it for a moment, then dragged his teeth over the rim of jaw. I groaned, low and long.

I had to be dreaming an incredibly realistic, utterly erotic dream that my pitiful little melting brain had never before imagined in my lifetime. I was with my Dream Sex Kitten Heero—note to self: have a word with Dream Sex Kitten Heero about feeding me fruit instead of chocolate, I don't like fruit—and the real Heero was probably off trying to hack into Preventers or my lips or oh my God he was sucking on me. 

The citric scent of orange curled with the deep musk of Heero and then the wet edge of fruit touched my lips. I opened immediately, wrapping my tongue around his fingers and pulling him inside. I held him with my teeth just so I could suck on him. Even if I did have to put up with the orange thingy. He moaned against my neck, right below my ear and I shivered. I have never heard anything as sexy as that moan in my entire life. It was like napalm orgasm all over. I tried to turn my head to kiss him—I needed to stick my tongue in his mouth pretty much like I needed to breathe and pay taxes—but he held my chin and didn't let me move. "Eat, Master," he said, then let go. I whined in my throat and got rid of the orange bit in two chomps. His lips came back to mine and his tongue came back into my mouth. I groaned into him. God, _Heero_.

I caught the scent of pineapple before it touched my lower lip. I opened my mouth immediately for him, but he pulled it away this time. I opened my eyes, and then shut them when he licked me instead. His tongue backed off long enough to slide the pineapple along my lip again, then he sucked my lip into his mouth. By the time he let my lip slip from him to feed me the pineapple bit, it would have been accurate to say that the only part of my body capable of thought was between my legs and the only thing it was thinking was I wanna be inside of you.

Another Heero flavored pineapple bit touched my lips, sharing space and citric juice with his tongue. We both moaned when mine touched his.

"God, Heero." I pulled the pineapple into my mouth just so I could suck on his fingers. I could feel the heavy hitch of his breathing and fine quiver in his muscles. I could smell the deeper scents of musk and arousal under the thick citrus. "You're so, so good."

"It's my pleasure, Master," he all but purred, then sank his tongue back in my mouth. 

I have no shame. Taking immediately and absolute advantage of this turn of events, I sucked on his tongue. I, Duo "the loser virgin" Maxwell, was _sucking_ on Heero "the hottest stud in the universe" Yuy's tongue. That thought started pulling Lil' Scythe's hair trigger. Again.

Shifting his weight, he straddled my lap completely. The chair squeaked and groaned and everything seemed to be rocking, the floor, the walls, me, Heero. The rocking was doing absolute _wonders_ for body friction. All of the erectile tissue I personally possessed on my body was as perky as it gets and straining to touch Heero. And can you blame me? My God, this is _Heero_ we're talking about here. Heero with his tongue in my mouth, his chest rubbing mine, his body on top of me. He groaned suddenly, his held tilting more and his mouth opening all the way. It was like he was trying to climb inside of me and I really liked that thought. Heero moaned again, vibrating along the length of my—God, Heero was ringing my bells. He grunted, just like he used to when I wouldn't follow the "shut up Duo" directive back in the war, and his tongue slid out of my mouth. Oh hell no. I may be a loser slob virgin with the staying power of a gnat, but he gave me that tongue and I was keeping it, dammit! My tongue chased his right back into the hot, wet—oh my he was hot and wet inside. And tasty. Like chocolate and spice and—

Doorbell.

I blinked, bringing a set of seriously frustrated looking eyes into focus.

Someone started pounding on the door. "Duo Maxwell! I know you're in there!"

Oh hell.

Heero's eyes closed and he sighed mournfully. "Relena."

The pounding didn't stop. "Duo Maxwell! Open up or I'll get the superintendent to do it for you!" Shit. With that shrieking, my neighbors were gonna kill me.

"Hi!" I yelled. "You've reached the residence of Duo Maxwell and he can't come to the door right now. Please leave a message after the beep and he'll get back to you sometime next week or millennium, whichever comes later! Beep!"

Heero snorted, then started choking.

"Heero? Is that you? Are you in there?" The doorknob started rattling. "I'm getting the superintendant right this instant!"

"You can't do that! You ever hear of trespassing laws? That's a fine how do you do, the friggin pacifist Queen of the Universe and Beyond is nothing but a common law-breaker! For _shame_ , Miss Relena, what will your public think?" 

"They'll think I'm reuniting with my missing fiance, that's what they'll think!"

"Ha! I'm calling the National Tattler! I can see the headlines now. Relena Peacecraft, Queen of the World by day, B & E specialist by night!"

"That's not funny!"

I grinned. "Hey, are you any good? I never got into burglary before I got picked up by Doctor Frankenschnozz, but I got some mad skills, baby! We can maybe team up and knock over your friends places! We can be the modern day Bonnie and Clyde, though you'll have to be Clyde because you just can't call someone as hunky as me Clyde!"

"I am _not_ a thief!" She bellowed, pounding on the door.

"Now, now, Relena, you know that the first step in overcoming your kleptomania is to admit you have a problem! That twelve step program you've enrolled in will never do you any good if you're still in denial! You know how we all love and admire your courage and determination in getting past your larceny habit!"

"Aargh! I do _not_ have a larceny habit!"

"You don't?"

"No!"

"So you don't do B & E?"

"No! I am _not_ like _you_!"

I grinned. "That's great to hear, ojousan! G'night!"

"You, open this door!"

"No!"

"M-minister P-peacecraft, I, um, don't know—" Great. The super.

"Open the door!" Holy shit Relena had a set of pipes on her. 

"I bet she could out howl a couple of Verniers," I grumbled. Heero ducked his face into the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His whole body was vibrating. "Heero?"

"Verniers," he snorted, then muffled a high-pitched laugh in my skin. Heero? Giggling? Holy shit. Old Man Splitfoot better put on his ear muffs and leg warmers.

I prodded him on the thigh, at least I think it was a thigh. Anyway, I poked him. "Aren't you going to hide or something?"

"Now!" Relena yelled.

The bolts shot open, one at a time, and then the knob twisted, and then the door exploded open followed immediately by frothy pink. Well, it was a conservatively tailored business suit, but it was frothy pink in color if that makes any difference. Her eyes landed on us immediately. "Heero!"

"Hello, Relena," he said, twisting his face in her direction but pressing his cheek tightly to my shoulder.

"You, you, what?" She was all sheet white now, kind of like Quat was the one time he had pneumonia.

He grunted.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"I'm feeding Duo," he said, then kissed my shoulder.

Relena looked like she was gonna hit the deck. That might be kinda cool to see. Would she do that movie like crumpling slowly thing to land on her back or would she just flop face first? "Feeding Duo. In his lap."

"He won't eat properly on his own."

I wrinkled my nose. "I will so."

"When was the last time you ate a fruit or a vegetable?"

"I had some sour gummi fruit this morning. A whole bag of it."

He smirked. "I rest my case."

Relena crept around the couch, feeling her way slowly to a cushion where she kinda flopped like a rag doll. "And you have to sit in his lap to feed him."

"It keeps him suitably distracted from the fact that he's eating healthy."

"I noticed that you were sticking fruit in my mouth." I glared at the wall off to the right so I didn't have to see either of them. I should have known. The kissing and touching was only about tricking me into eating nasty good for you stuff. Stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but lets face facts here. This is Heero Yuy. _The_ Heero Yuy. I glared at him, a full on Glare O' Doom ala Yuy. "You could have just asked. You didn't have to kiss me to make me eat that stuff."

He smirked down at me, looking amused as all h ell. "I like kissing you."

"Kissing? _Him_?" Relena was whining. _Again._

Heero's smirk shifted into that evil aww, isn't he adorable smirk of his. Dammit, my bottom lip must be sticking out again. I'm a living, breathing girl-cootie word. Argh! "I feel so used."

"You feel so good."

"Heero?" Relena said faintly. "After I proposed to you and you said you were gay, you didn't mean that you were happy, did you?"

"No, Relena."

"You meant that you were," she twisted her fingers together and dropped her voice to a whisper, "homosexual."

Heero put his see, I do so look just like my gundam face on and grunted. Oh yeah, he has wicked conversational skills going on here.

I rolled my eyes. "Jeez Louise, Lena-babe. No one is stupid enough to think that gay means happy anymore. When a man says he's gay, it means he's all about the purple banana."

"Purple banana?" Relena said.

Heero just shook his head.

"Purple _banana_?" Her face was getting all blotchy. Should I point out that it clashed with her pink outfit? "Maybe in the gutter where you come from, Maxwell, the word gay instantly implies something sexual and filthy. Where I come from, perhaps you've heard of it, we call it civilization, gay usually refers to feeling happy."

I shrugged philosophically. "So you're sheltered and out of touch with reality. Not my fault so don't yell at me for it."

"Master, quit picking fights with Relena," Heero whispered in my ear. Even though it didn't really _feel_ like a whisper, more like a sotto voce command. Kind of like shut up, Duo, don't fuck up my mission, Duo, eat your vegetables or omae or korosu, Duo.

"Hey, she picked a fight with me!"

"Heero, are you certain you're, well, gay?"

He frowned at me. "Yes, Relena." I frowned back at him. He smirked and whispered, "You're cute when you sulk, Master."

"I'm not cute!" I wasn't yelling. Not even a little bit. 

Relena glowered at me, then turned a concerned yet loving face to Heero. "How can you be certain? Have you dated girls?"

Well, now, actually that was a good question. Much as I love, adore, and pretty much worship the spandex he walks around in, Heero doesn't exactly have all of his personal interaction pepperoni on his pizza. You know he didn't even laugh once at the interrupting cow knock knock joke? And he patiently explained that hair pigmentation had nothing to do with a person's intellectual capacity after I told him a bunch of blonde jokes? Hell, Quatre thought they were funny. Especially the one about blondes learning to ride horses. Zechs didn't, but I've got photographic evidence that he's a natural blonde so maybe Quat bleaches. His _is_ Arabian, you know. They don't exactly come with optional blonde exterior trim. "How can a man be certain of his sexual preference if he doesn't get blonde jokes?"

Heero was giving me his patented don't be more of a baka than you can help, baka glare. "It wasn't that difficult to figure out, Duo. I think of you in the shower, I get an erection. I think of a naked female, I don't. Think of it as a personal preference barometer."

" _Blonde_ jokes?" Relena had this little whiny tone that kind of made me think she couldn't tell if she should be confused or pissed off. Excuse me, put out. Queens of Everything don't do pissy.

I ignored her and tried not pout up at Heero because I wanted to be manly, not all girl-cootie. "You mean I wasted all those years of puberty angsting over my sexual preference when all I had to do was check in with the boner barometer?"

He shrugged. "You're either attracted to men or you're not."

"Well, I was hanging out with Professor Proboscis and Howard the Hawaiian duck during puberty. I actually saw G out of his labcoat once. That kind of thing has a way of ruining you for sex with guys."

Heero looked a little bit disturbed by this.

"Hey, then I saw you in the shower and I was cured. Honest!"

Relena must have managed to get control of herself. The neon blush was starting to fade, at least. "Why didn't you tell me, Heero? I feel like such a fool."

"It wasn't relevant."

She turned red again. "Wasn't relevant? _Wasn't_ relevant? How can you say that?!"

Uh oh.

She leaped to her feet. "I've been chasing you for years, you idiot! All you had to do was tell me that you preferred the intimate company of men and I wouldn't have become such a laughingstock!"

Heero blinked. "Laughingstock?"

She waved her arms around. "Yes, a laughingstock!"

Heero gave me his confused glare, the one where instant death was promised if he wasn't unconfused immediately, if not sooner.

I glared back. How in the hell was I supposed to explain what laughingstock was without having Princess Pretty in Pink take my head off with her pink fingernails? "Do I look like a dictionary?"

Relena saved my bacon. "Am I the only one who wasn't in on your little secret? I'm sure that you and Duo have had yourselves a fine time laughing at me behind my back all these years. How _could_ you? I tried to give you my heart!" Aw fuck. She was tearing up. Any second now and, yup, there it goes. Tears, sniffles, and delicate passes over her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Heero opened his mouth. I could tell, from the panicked glare on his face, that he was gonna stick both his feet and probably mine in there.

"Lena babe, Heero didn't tell anyone. I didn't know until yesterday. I _never_ laughed at you over your love for Heero. It just shows that you have good taste." Okay, I probably would have laughed if I knew he was gay way back when, but I'd been too busy hating her guts for being lucky enough to be Heero's One True Love. I was fifteen, okay? So what if bought into the whole Princess Pink and her Fallen Hero fairy tale. Angsting over my unrequited love for the Queen of the World's Knight in Shining Armor gave me something to do when I wasn't sticking my thermal scythe up some mobile suit's ass or figuring out new and creative ways to get out of homework, especially after Heero nixed my Deathscythe ate my homework and is gonna stomp on your car excuse. You know he actually threatened to tie me, butt nekkid, to the girls showers by my _hair_ if I used it? With a girlie double butterfly knot, to boot. Heero was straight evil back then and I ain't lying.

Relena was glaring at me. Apparently my trying to comfort her was worse than Heero telling her to shove it up her ass sideways in his oh so sensitive ways. "You found out he was a part of the alternative community _yesterday_ and you have him feeding you pineapple _today_. Your _sterling_ morality is a beacon for us all." How in the fuck can she make something that I thought was so wonderful sound so sordid and rent a cheap hotel room by the hour without breaking out of the perfect debutante vernacular? And just when I was feeling an affinity for her circumstances, too. 

"I'm not a slut!"

She quirked an eyebrow in patented disbelief.

"I'm not! I've never even had sex befor—shit." Way to 'fess up to total loser status in front of the sex kitten of your dreams, Maxwell. You're so smooth. You're so suave. The only thing worse would be to clue him in on the obsession part, too.

Heero put his fingers on my chin and twisted my face so he could look me in the eyes. "Really?"

I blushed nineteen shades of bright red that would have put Psycho Doro's Dominatrix Crimson manicure to shame. How do you explain to the man of your dreams that you're still a loser virgin because you'd rather be dating him torridly in your fantasy life than out with real people? "Um, yeah."

Next thing I know, Heero's getting wild all over me, kind of like Dream Sex Kitten Heero did in my dream last night when I told him that I preferred dry humping him to being with anyone else. His hands were everywhere and his tongue couldn't decide between my mouth, my throat, and around my ears. In between licks and sucks and sanity-stealing kisses, he was saying words like "my Master", "my Duo", "can't believe", "beautiful", and "mine all mine". I couldn't string them together to form any sort of coherent whole because, quite frankly, I was so far gone I was wondering who in the hell this Duo character was and why Heero had to be saying his name when he could be kissing me instead.

"Heero!" Relena's shriek could shatter glass, ear drums, and even the most combustible ardor. Heero turned a glare on her, but didn't let go of me. "I'm having a party at my country estate near Brussels this weekend. I would like for you to attend. Even if we can't be," she took a deep breath and then let it out, "even though you are the way the way are, I would still like to be," she took another breath, "your friend. The party. Please come. By all means bring your pet idiot, I mean, the invitation extends to Duo as well, of course, since he's your, your, well. I would like to—I have to go."

Heero heaved a completely silent sigh. "Relena."

She paused on the way to the door, but didn't turn to face us. Her shoulders tensed. "Yes, Heero?"

"I'll be there."

No!

She turned and smiled for a moment. "I'll see you then. Send me an email and I'll send you the details, okay?"

He nodded once.

Noooooo!

The door shut quietly behind her. Heero twitched in my lap for as long as he could hold out, then charged over to lock the door. I wouldn't call that paranoid. What if Mrs. Clovis _really_ gets into the idea of having him check her pipes? The old bat is nutso.

"Heero, do we _really_ have to go to Princess Pinkie's stupid party?" 

"You're cute when you whine, Master," he said, dropping back into my lap. "Relena is my friend."

My bottom lip was out and damned proud of it and there wasn't anything I could do to get back in without biting it with my teeth which really wasn't that much better when you think about it. "She's not my friend. She hates me."

"You're my Master," he said, pausing to lick my bottom lip. "She'll get over it."

Right. And Wufei will wear stiletto heels with his uniform and start talking with a limp-wristed lisp, too. "Fine, I'll go. But I'm eating off your plate 'cause you just know she's planning on poisoning me."

He smirked. "Then you'll get plenty of vegetables."

"Yuck! Heero, vegetables are gross! Do I _look_ like a rabbit to you?"

"Yes. Your nose is all wrinkled up and twitching." He licked my nose. "You're my Master-Bunny."

"Bunny! The God of Death is _not_ a bunny! Bunnies are girlie!"

"My Master Shi no Bunny. You bounce, too." He licked my nose again. "Why haven't you had sex? Someone as beautiful as you must have had offers."

Okay, this was way more embarrassing than that stupid girl-cootie bunny thing. "Ahh, well, yeah, I've had offers. I just didn't take 'em up."

"Why not?"

"Didn't want to."

"Why not?"

"Gah! _Heero_. It's not a big deal or anything."

"I could always call you Master Shinibunny where Wufei can hear it."

Oooh, now that's dirty pool. "You're a bastard."

He all but grinned at me, smug bastard.

Well, I certainly couldn't tell him the whole truth, now could I? Gee, Heero, I'm a virgin because I couldn't get over my sick obsession with you. Well, as long as I didn't use the word obsession or name names. "Well, Howard decided that he was the only parent I was ever likely to get so he took it upon himself to tell me all about sex." I shrank down on myself a little bit. God, this was embarrassing as hell. "I don't really remember it 'cause he was talking about girls and he wasn't really talking clearly 'cause he was pretty embarrassed and I didn't pay much attention. I do remember that he said that sex without love made you feel empty when it was done, that you might as well just go polish your own poop deck." I shrugged. "I was fifteen and had most of my hormones doing the thinking for me, what the hell did I care? I could have had a meaningful relationship with a hole in the fence."

"I see." Aw hell, not the you just kicked my puppy face. God, Heero, that's not fair!

I scrunched my eyes up so I didn't have to see him and I was pretty sure that I was glowing red enough to light up half the city. "And, ah, he was kinda right. I think. I, uh, kinda dated this guy on L2 for a while and we got into to some, you know, heavy making out stuff and it felt really good and stuff but he didn't smell right. You know? He smelled like rust and old motor oil not like, ah, it just didn't work, you know? I couldn't really get into 'cause it was kinda like jackin' off. It's like I had to pretend he was someone else and after that I never dated serious. It wasn't worth it and I had...." My Dream Sex Kitten Heero. And what kind of loser would I be if I admitted that I'd rather have a fantasy of _him_ to anything in real life? Can you say complete loser on par with Romafellar? Yeah, thought so.

"You had what?"

I shrugged and waved my fingers dismissively. "You know."

"No, I don't. Tell me, Master."

"I had, ah, stuff. You know. Um. Stuff."

"Stuff." 

Argh! "Enough with the you just kicked my puppy face! That's _not_ fair! You're cheating!"

He had the unmitigated gall to look amused. "You've been using your adorable Shinibunny face against me for the last fifteen minutes."

I slapped my hands over my face. "I can't believe that you, Mr. Omae o Korosu himself, is calling _me_ , the God of Death, _Shinibunny_. That's just wrong on so many levels."

"You're an adorable God of Death." He pulled my hands off of my face. "What did you have?"

I glared at him. He gave me his aren't you just cute as hell smirk. I glared harder. He kissed the end of my nose. If I glared any harder, my eyebrows would be hanging out by my nostrils. "I told you."

"Please, Master."

"It works better if you don't say please in the same tone of voice that you threaten to kill people with."

He added a you better do it or you'll be one dead lil' adorable Shinibunny glare to his repertoire.

"Why in the heck do you want to know so bad anyway? It's not important."

"Yes, it is."

"Is not!"

"It is to me."

Well hell.

"Please tell me."

I wrapped my fingers around my braid and glared at the couch. "It's embarrassing as hell."

"Please."

I grabbed my braid in my fists, a good foot between them, and covered my eyes with my hair so I didn't have to look. The pressure against my eyes, pulling against my temples, felt really good all things considered. "I didn't want to go on any real dates because I had my Dream Sex Kitten."

He tugged the braid down my nose a little. "Me."

I turned red. "Yeah."

"Why?"

I yanked the braid back up over my eyes. "I dunno if anyone ever told you, but you have the sexiest ass this side of the asteroid belt."

His hands suddenly landed in our laps. "So I'm just a sexy ass." Now he even sounded like a kicked puppy. Well, a kicked puppy armed with a beam cannon and assorted depleted uranium weaponry.

I dropped my hair. "No!"

"Then why?"

I stared into his eyes, those blue, blue eyes that reflected exactly what I felt. You know, that feeling of sheer terror you get right before you press your gundam's self-destruct button while you're sitting in your gundam. Or when you accidentally run into G before he's had his seven cups of coffee in the morning. Or when you're a couple of hours out from your public, televised execution. Only it's worse because it's like you're running as hard and as fast as can because you just _know_ that if you don't get there, wherever there is, in time, that you'll be abandoned and alone forever. That your whole life will be empty and meaningless and you'll never know what it feels like to be wrapped up in your love's arms again. And you're standing on the precipice and you only got two ways down, jump or fall. 

"Why?" His voice was low and urgent, like a gundam at maximum torque.

"I...." I swallowed nervously. Everything inside of me was shrieking like Relena and I couldn't even hear myself think. "Because I love you."

Aw hell.


	8. You Just Can't Manufacture Blackmail Material Like That

The look on Heero's face after I dropped _that_ particular bomb was probably horror and disgust. I couldn't tell for sure because I had my eyes scrunched up and the heels of my palms covering them. There was no way in _hell_ I was gonna get my poor heart creamed by the look of pity/derision that was surely to be there. Poor, sad, little Duo, in love with the catch of the universe. Do try not to giggle too loudly because he might cry. Yup, it was _way_ past time for me to get the hell out of Dodge.

I'm pretty sure the only reason why Heero ended up on the floor was because he wasn't expecting me to do my full on rendition of a prize bucking bronco at that moment. Maybe he was too busy trying to keep the giggles hidden so he wouldn't hurt my feelings. Well, he did say I was his friend or something at one point. I vaulted from the chair and leaped for the front door like a gazelle with a cheetah breathing down its ass. Well, faster than that. I got the door open before Heero got to me, raced down the hallway, and hit the stairs at warp speed. No way I was gonna wait around for the elevator. Heero might be super soldier boy with all the hopped up bells and whistles Doctor Demento could think up, but even he had no hope of catching the _maxwellis uber-moronis_ in full flight. It didn't even occur to me until I'd gotten about three blocks away from my apartment building that I was wearing my jammies.

Okay, so I'm screwed. I had no shoes. I'm fricking starving to death because I only got to eat a few pieces of fruit. Yuck-o. I had no wallet therefore no cash. More importantly, I'm the poster child for the How to Abjectly Humiliate Yourself Foundation of ESUN, donations accepted. So I did what any good pajama-clad idiot does when confronted with an empty belly and the results of his own stupidity, I found a public phone and called Quatre collect. 

The scratchy screen went through its little frou-frou stuff. I swear, Relena must have had a hand in choosing the graphical layout and greetings for the phone company. I gave it my name and Quat's number and glared at a guy who had stopped to admire the view. 

"Duo?" Holy shit, Quatre looked awful, even without the poor quality of the screen. 

"You look like hell, man."

He snorted and waved his hand over his head. "He fasted for a year and then broke his fast with an onion."

Uh... "Quat? Are you okay?"

"Your tongue is like a horse—if you take care of it, it takes care of you; if you treat it badly, it treats you badly." He blinked owlishly, then burped. "I don't feel so good."

"Are you sick?"

He put his hand over his mouth and nodded.

"I'm on my way. You just sit tight."

"The dogs may bark but the caravan moves on." He shoved both hands into his hair, then turned a funny shade of green and took off running. I cut the connection and took off running as well. It's a good thing Quatre only lives a couple of miles away. Nothing quite like a puking, blonde cuddle plushie to make you forget that you just wrecked your whole life.

He didn't answer when I pounded on the door to his penthouse apartment, so I let myself in. Despite the best security money can buy, it only took me thirty seconds. Sometimes I'm so good, I amaze even myself. Hey, and he usually had some good leftover—what the _fuck_?

"Quatre?"

There was moaning coming from the left, where his bathroom was. His living area was carpeted with expensive persian rugs, soft leather furniture, half empty take out boxes, and bottles of half finished booze. Holy fuck, his place looked like a frat party had hit it. Well, the kind of frat party that stuck their pinkies out when they drank tea, but still. All he needed was some stray panties and I'd think I'd hit the twilight zone.

I found Quat in the bathroom, hanging off of the commode which he'd apparently just.... Ewww.

He blinked blearily up at me. "Duo?"

"Yup. I kinda let myself in."

"Do not buy either the moon or the news, for in the end they will both come out."

"Rrrright. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

"Oh. Okay."

"Quat? Did you drink all that booze yourself?" Please tell me you had help. Please.

He grinned. "Yup!"

"Wonderful."

"A wise man associating with the vicious becomes an idiot; a dog traveling with good men becomes a rational being."

I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. Howse the tummy? Are you gonna blow any more chunks or is it safe to put you to bed?"

He giggled, then burped again. "I think I'm safe. A chameleon does not leave one tree until he is sure of another." He said that with all the solemnity of Moses handing down the scriptures from the mountain. Then he giggled.

"Quat, you're just too cute when you're sloshed." I helped him to his feet and got his shirt off. It had apparently gotten between him and the porcelain god when he was making his offering. Pants too. Yuckoleeo. I put him in front of the sink and handed him his toothbrush with some paste on it. He licked it, made a face, and handed it back.

He waggled his finger in front of my nose and frowned. "Call someone your lord and he'll sell you in the slave market." At least I think that last word was market. He got halfway through it and started giggling again.

"I'll remember that. Brush your teeth. Your mouth must feel like the floor of a theater." I gave him the tooth brush again.

He wrinkled his nose at it and handed it back. "The ass went seeking for horns and lost his ears."

"Open your mouth, Quat."

And he did, just popped it open with his bright sea blue eyes and his shiny tousled hair. He looked like a five year old. All he needed was to swap out the silk boxers for superman underoos. If it wasn't for that fact that he kinda reeked—hard liquor and upchucking do that to you—I would have wanted to drag him off into a rocking chair and cuddle the hell out of him. Grinning a little, I stuck the toothbrush in his mouth and swiped at his teeth. He mumbled something around it and took over the job for me. I had to help him rinse and wipe his mouth, though.

I took his hand and tugged him along behind. "C'mon Quatty-pie, time for beddy-bye."

"Quatty-pie. Quatty. Here Quatty Quatty!" He chortled. Swear to God. Quatre's the only man I know that can pull off a full blown chortle without looking like a wussy girl. "The frying-pan says to the kettle, Avaunt, black brows!"

"What in the hell does that mean?"

"Dunno. Rashid always says it when I tell him not to worry." He shrugged artlessly and tried to wander off toward the couch.

"Nope, this way sugar plum. You've had enough to drink already."

"But it's so good! I feel so floofy. Have you ever felt floofy? I like feeling floofy. It's floofyful and I don't have to remember anything that's not floofy. Floofy." He punctuated this with a swooning power fist of solidarity in the air and then ruined the determined effect by toppling over onto his butt and giggling.

"Yeah, I know. Floofy is great."

"Floofy! The sinning is the best part of repentance."

"Yeah, I agree with you on that one. C'mon. Bed time." I took both of his hands and pulled him to his feet.

"Bed!" Suddenly I found myself with a bundle of squirming and rather drunken Quatre wrapped around my torso like a brass on a stripper's pole. He gave me a sloppy kiss that was cool and minty. "Take me to bed! I don't wanna be a virgin no more."

"I'm flattered, Quat, but what about Trowa? You remember him? Your bang-wearing love monkey?"

Quatre's smile slid from his face with a thump. Tears welled up and his lip quivered. "He hates me." He let go of me and crumpled to the floor. "I don't wanna feel like this. I wanna feel floofy."

"Trowa doesn't hate you." I said. He scrunched up his nose and then suddenly bolted for the couch. He would probably have made it if he had any decent coordination left. I managed to catch him around the waist and change his trajectory toward the bedroom. "Whoa, big boy, no more booze for you."

"Floofy!" he whined. "Please, Duo. I wanna feel floofy."

"And you can feel plenty floofy when you're sleeping it off."

He pouted. It was adorable as all get out, but I had no intention of holding his head while he ralfed some more. "Pretty please with naked Heeros on top?"

God. Heero. Shit, I'd just stampeded out on him like a panic driven idiot without a word or anything. First, get Quatre to bed, then deal with the Heero situation. "No. Sleepytime. Aren't you sleepy?"

"Nope!" He grinned at me. "The fruit of timidity is neither gain nor loss."

"I'm sure it is. Let's get you to bed. Sleep would be great right now."

"Bed is good," he purred. "Let's go to bed." He bumped up against me, his hands creeping under my waistband to grab my butt. "You're sexy, Duo. Have I ever told you that you're sexy? Not as sexy as Trowa, but you're sexy. I've had... _fantasies_. Isn't that naughty of me? I've been very naughty."

I was getting hit on by a walking, talking teddy bear. I so did not want to hear this. "I think you're awful sexy, too, Quatre. We can talk about this when you're sober, okay?"

"No! Now is good." He landed a wet kiss on my neck while I got his hands out of my pants. "Now is very good." I blocked a grab for my wedding tackle while he shucked his boxers off with his other hand. "See, I'm naked!"

Whattaya know, Q's a natural blonde. "Quat, I'm really flattered and all but—"

The vidphone rang and he squealed, cutting me off. "Maybe it's Trowa!" I was then treated to the sight of Quatre's naked white buns bouncing happily across the room. He hit the receive button before it even occurred to me that he was going to answer it butt ass naked. "Heero!"

"Quatre?" Even ol' gundanium face sounded shocked.

"The one-eyed person is a beauty in the country of the blind." Quatre intoned, then giggled. "Is Trowa with you? Trowa is soooo—" He interrupted himself with another giggling fit.

"No, Trowa isn't here. Have you seen Duo this evening?"

Quatre pouted. "Duo won't have sex with me."

Shit. I snatched a throw blanket from the couch and draped it over Quatre. Heero was blinking, obviously puzzled. I grinned. "Uh, hi, Heero."

"Duo? What's going on?"

Quatre shoved the blanket off and wrapped himself around me. "Take me to bed, I wanna be yours! If that's okay with you Heero." Giggling, Quatre wrapped my braid around his neck. "We can play Sheik Quatre and His Harem Boy Duo. I've got all of these naughty... _fantasies_. Pretty please with naked Heeros on top?"

Heero's eyes flicked from Quatre to me and back. "Duo?"

"Quat's a little drunk—"

"Floofy!" Quatre insisted, then licked my cheek, tripped, and nearly hung himself with my hair.

I sighed and tugged my braid free. "Make that a lot floofy."

"Oh, I like being floofy. It feels so...floofy." He smiled sweetly at Heero. "He who plants thorns must never expect to gather roses."

I patted Quat on the head. "Right. We'll keep that in mind."

Quatre started humping my leg. "And I'm so very thorny."

"Heero, could you bring me some spare clothes and my toothbrush? Q needs a keeper and we're as good as any."

"Oooh!" Quatre squealed. "We can have a threesome! I can be Treize and Duo can be Zechs and Heero can be Wufei and we can play Masterful Dictator Tames His Kinky Captain and Horny Dragon!" He leered at both of us. "I have... _fantasies_."

Ooookay, that was way more than I needed to know. I should probably _never_ clue Wu into this little conversation.

Heero paled visibly. "I'll be there shortly. And Master, please be careful."

"Master? Kinky! Are you Heero's Master? You can be my Master, too. I'm tired of being good. I want to be _naughty_."

Oh boy.

"Heero?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Please hurry." 

Heero nodded curtly and disconnected.

"Every sun has to set." Quatre smiled at me. "I'm thirsty."

"Let's get you back into your boxers and then get you some water."

"Oh no. I want scotch. Scotch is so good. Not like tequila. That was icky. And the wine tasted funny. I think it was because I used it to kill the taste of the tequila." No wonder he was throwing up. He pulled away and tottered over to the couch where he flopped down. He picked up a bottle and tipped it over, shaking it. Some vodka splattered over his thighs and he tossed it away. "Not scotch."

"When was the last time you ate anything?"

His face turned faintly green again. "Don't mention food. Just scotch."

"Quat, you don't drink."

He glared at me. It was cute. Then he snatched up a bottle and tipped it over his mouth.

I dropped the blanket back over his lap, then sprawled into a chair, rubbing my temples. God, what a nightmare. "This isn't going to solve anything, Quat."

"A horse that will not carry a saddle must have no oats." Then he swigged some more booze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Don't know."

"Why'd you say it?"

"Don't know." He shrugged again and threw the bottle on the floor. "I want to feel floofy again. I don't want to feel like this. This sad." His head lolled to the side and he stared at me with those big, blue puppy eyes. "You don't hate me, do you? I'm not a bad friend am I?"

"No, Quatre. You're my best friend and my brother and I love you."

"The knife of the family does not cut." He sniffled, then rubbed his nose, listing hard to port. "I love you, too."

"Getting a little sleepy?"

"Just a little. I'm naughty. I have... _fantasies_." He looked so mournful about it, as if he'd just kicked Heero's puppy.

I smiled. "Everyone has fantasies, lil' bro. That doesn't make you naughty."

"I'll tell you a secret." He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. "A secret is like a dove: when it leaves my hand it takes wing."

"That's an interesting secret."

He waved his hand over his head. "That's not the secret. The secret is that I'm in love with Trowa."

I smiled again. "I know."

"And this is where I get naughty. I have fantasies... _sexual_ fantasies about Trowa. And he's almost _naked_ and everything in my... _fantasies_."

"You don't say."

He sighed, listing further to port. "And that's why he hates me. He told me that he's not gay. And I kissed him. It was the best moment of my whole life. And he said he's not gay and doesn't like me _that_ way. It was the worst moment of my whole life. If he knew I had... _fantasies_ , he'd kill me."

Well shit.

He flopped completely onto his side. "I have fantasies about waking up with him. The first thing I see is his beautiful green eyes and his hair sticking up funny like he stuck his finger in a light socket." He smiled briefly. "He looks like that in the morning. And sometimes he drools on his pillow."

"I think that's a very sweet fantasy to have, Quat." Maybe I should get him a copy of the Gay Kama Sutra for inspiration. I take that back. Considering the Treize taming Zechs and Wufei thing, maybe he's got more inspiration than he needs. I should have recorded that; you just can't manufacture blackmail material like that.

"Trowa is so...." 

"Trowa is so...?"

"...beautiful. Mmm."

"He's got a hairdo that you usually see on a fuzzy Shetland pony. Which is weird because Shetland ponies are short, fat, and stubby and he's tall, skinny, and shaves regularly." I twiddled my braid in my fingers. "Maybe it's a circus thing. They have ponies in the circus and he wanted to blend."

Quatre gave me a disapproving look that wrinkled his face up. "A horse of good breed is not dishonored by his saddle." 

"Yup, that's Tro in a nutshell."

"He doesn't like nuts."

"Right."

"He likes..." Quatre snuggled into his blanket. "He likes soup."

"Soup."

"And fresh bread."

"He still has a horse's hairdo."

"And soup." He smiled briefly. "Soup."

I swished the end of my braid back and forth over my nose. "Yeah, soup." I wouldn't know why. I've tasted Cathy's soup. Either she was trying to poison me on purpose or her cooking skills are worse than mine.

Q had been snoring softly, and sometimes not so softly, for about ten minutes when Heero knocked on the door. I guessed that it was too late to go do the run and hide thing again. I was at Quatre's house. Where else could I go? Wufei's? Doro's? I let him in. 

He stood sheepishly—well, on anyone else it would have been called predatorily, but it was sheepish for Heero—in the doorway. He twisted the duffel that dangled from his fingers. 

"Um, hi," I said, twisting my braid in my fingers.

"Quatre?"

"I think he finally passed out on the couch. I'm gonna leave him there considering."

He grunted and followed me in, shutting and bolting the door carefully behind him. 

"Um, if you'll get the bottles picked up, I'll call Wufei and let him know I'll be late tomorrow and then I'll get the bathroom."

"The bathroom?"

I shrugged and dropped my braid. "He mixed his drinks and they came back up. It's pretty gross."

He had his old ninmu ryoukai, let's give it all for God, king, and Pooh Bear expression on his face. "I'll get the bathroom, also."

I pushed my bangs up and gave him a rueful little grin. "I'll clean a bathroom. It's not like I haven't yakked after a night of boozing it up. I'm the expert here."

"No. The bathroom is mine, Master." He added a touch of don't argue with me to the ninmu ryoukai glare. This made his eyes slant a bit more and the blue gleam ferociously.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared. "No way. _I_ am cleaning the bathroom and that's final."

He stomped up, all but growling, and put his nose in my face. Hah. Intimidation tactics so don't work on me! He poked me in the chest. "You are the Master. I am the slave. That means you sit on your pretty little ass while I clean the bathroom."

I poked him back. "I'm the Master and you're the slave so that means you do what I say. _You_ sit on _your_ pretty little ass while _I_ clean the bathroom!"

The muscles along his jaw were twitching. No, it wasn't a happy, I think you're so hot I can barely hold myself back from jumping your bones kind of twitching either. "Baka."

I smirked. "And don't you forget it." 

"How can I forget it when you keep reminding me when you do the things you do?!" Shitfire, could he bellow or what?

"You knew I was a baka before you even showed back up so it's your own damned fault!"

"It's not my fault that you're—" He gritted his teeth and his trigger fingers twitched. Yeah right. "Quit being such a baka!"

"If you don't like me being a baka then why in the hell did you even come? To make my life hell? Huh? It's bad enough to know that I'm a loser without you showing up and proving it to everyone! Are you having fun? Huh? You getting all of this on hidden camera for posterity? Here's a prime example of the stupid idiot, the _homo bakanis_ , folks, see how much of an idiot he is? This one has been carrying a torch for his best friend, the _homo superioris_ , for years even though he and everyone else knows it's hopeless! Bakas make great pets but don't let them breed."

"Duo—"

Oh hell no. I was on a roll, dammit. "Well I don't happen to think it's the least bit amusing, you know? So what if I think Godzilla vs. Monster Zero is classical film and a fine treatise on pre-colony societal values and mores? That doesn't make me a moron! No, what makes me a moron is that I love you and you don't love me and you don't even _like_ Godzilla and you're Japanese! And there was a Monster _Zero_? It's like predestination! How can you _not_ like Godzilla? It's against the laws of nature, goddammit! I don't care if it is a short guy sweating like a stuck pig in a rubber suit! It's pre-colony! They might as well have grunted and lived in caves!"

Quatre staggered off of the couch and slumped against Heero, blinking at me. He held out a half empty bottle of what had been a very expensive merlot. "It tastes kinda bad, but it'll make you feel floofy."

Heero sighed and wrapped an arm around nature boy with the booze to keep him from tottering over like the leaning tower of Quatre. "Duo—"

"Arrogance is a weed that grows mostly on a dunghill." Quatre nodded sagely, then didn't quite manage to stop without Heero's help.

"Thanks Quat. Back to Godzilla. He's my hero, you know? No matter what, ol' Godzilla took a licking and came back rarin' for more. He got shot, he got nuked, he got irradiated, he got bitten by really ugly monster things, he had to listen to weirdo Japanese girls singing, and he even had to fight King Kong—who had a creepy looking nipple thing going on. Did anyone laugh at him? No. You know why not? 'Cause he was big and bad and he took out Tokyo! He creamed it!" Shit. I was gonna cry. "That's me. I've failed to self-destruct. I've almost gotten executed. I give Wufei high blood pressure on a daily basis. I snuck a whoopee cushion onto Une's chair, even though I never fessed up to that so couldn't get in trouble for it. I even told the great Heero Yuy that I loved him and you know what? Just like when Godzilla gets his ass kicked, I'll be back tomorrow, ready to kick some monster ass and cream Tokyo 'cause that's the kind of guy I am. Stupid! So take that, Heero! Laugh if you will!"

Quatre wiped tears from his cheeks. "That was, that was just beautiful, Duo." He took a sip of his wine. "We got any more scotch?"

Heero sighed. "You're an idiot."

"You are like a tree, giving your shade to the outside." Quatre tossed back the rest of the wine. 

I glared at Heero. "We've established that, can we move on now? I'd like to get the unbridled laughter and fun-making out of the way so I have a good reason to get happy pills from Sally tomorrow."

"You think I came here to hurt you?"

"No."

Quatre huffed and threw the bottle down. It bounced and dribbled on the formerly cream colored carpet. He toddled off toward the couch again.

Heero sighed again. "Then what was that all about?"

"Weren't you listening?"

"Could you repeat it?"

I blinked. Uh. What was it Dorothy said? Oh yeah, when in doubt, pout! "If you don't know, well I'm certainly not going to tell you!"

Heero wasn't moved by the pout. Maybe I wasn't doing it right. He didn't even flinch. "You're afraid."

"The young goose is a good swimmer," Quatre said. He giggled and hoisted a full bottle of schnapps. "Cheers!"

"Me? Afraid?" I forced myself to laugh. "I'm the God of Death!"

"Oooh," Quatre moaned. "I don't feel so good."

"You're afraid," Heero repeated as if he'd just managed to prove Fermat's Last Theorem. "That's what this is all about. Baka."

I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to glare. "So what. I'm an idiot."

Heero smiled and tugged my braid over my shoulder, then wrapped it around his wrist and held it tightly in his fist. "Baka," he said gently. The warm, smooth voice sent shivers down my spine. "I'm here because—"

"Oooh," Quatre groaned again, then burped.

"—I love you."

Quatre promptly yakked on our feet.


	9. Panicking with Frozen Carrots. Is That a Phallic Thing?

It was strangely appropriate. It was kind of like marriage almost. The to have and to hold with the braid wrapped around Heero's arm and the in sickness and in health with Quatre ralfing on us. When I told this to Heero—which happened to be after he'd cleaned up the chunks on the carpet because, quite, frankly, I had to visit the porcelain god myself after Quatre's, um, _christening_ of our love—he gave me _that_ look, the one people give to young children and harmless insane people, and kissed me on the cheek. How rude. I didn't even get an 'I do' out of the deal.

While Heero called Sally for a bit of advice on dealing with drunken cuddle kitty Quatres, I dumped and rinsed out Quat's bottle of two hundred year old scotch, thank god it was mostly full, and refilled it with water. Me? I'da been pissed, but Quatre was a giddy teetotaler so he probably wouldn't know the difference as smashed as he was. If not, I'd blame it on Wufei. You'd be surprised how easy it is to blame pretty much any aberration I run across on Wufei. It's the stick up his ass, you know.

"Hey, Quat, I found that scotch bottle and you're not getting it. You've had enough liquor, you boozehound."

He gave me those big, miserable eyes full of tears and sniffled. "I have not."

I looked at the bottle with a frown, then put it behind my back. "Have too."

He lunged at me, tripping over his own feet. "Have not!"

"Have, too!"

He yanked the bottle out of my hands and triumphantly crowed, "Have not!" I put on my best fake glower while he drank it all down just to spite me. Took him about twenty damned minutes, too. "That tastes good." 

Heero glared at me from his spot on the carpet where he knelt, armed with yellow rubber gloves with red paint where the fingernails are supposed to be, industrial strength carpet cleaner, and a scrub brush. I rolled my eyes and pounced on the gloating blonde huggy bear. "Quatre! You can't drink like that! You could get poisoned or something awful! You can't! You're not allowed to! I won't permit you to drink any more scotch!" I got the empty bottle away from him.

Quatre gave me an owlish look while he thought that over, then frowned. "I will! You're not my sister! Every day of your life is a page of your history!"

And that made no sense whatsoever. 

"Though, you do favor Sarai. If you put on a polka dotted dress and piled your hair on your head, you could be her." Quatre apparently thought this was hysterical because he dropped back onto his butt in another fit of giggles. "Sarai the Shinigami. A week out of every month and she would be more terrifying than you. Or even scarier than Wufei after you tricked him into admitting that Treize was an attractive man."

This was _so_ not funny. "What's with you and your little Wufei with King Ozzie fetish anyway?"

Quatre giggled. "I have fantasies."

"If you ever thought about me with anyone weird, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"Little Duo Riding Hood and the Big Bad Zechs." He grinned. "It's the hair."

"There will be no Little Duo Riding Hood and the Big Bad Zechs," Heero growled. He looked so cute with that you even think about it and I'll omae o korosu you into next Tuesday glare, the pouty bottom lip, and the yellow rubber with hot chick in red latex dragon lady fake nails gloves up to his elbows. The God of Death does not do cute, but the Perfect Soldier does.

"Ooooh, I almost forgot about horny King Duo and his Maganacs of the Round Table." Quatre smirked. "And Queen Auda-vere."

"Oh dear Shinigami, Heero, make it stop!" Heero, lovely little bastard that he is, just smirked at me. I glared back at him. That's it. No nookie for five _whole_ minutes! Not that we had any nookie to begin with, but a guy's got to stick to principles. "You're just making that up 'cause you're drunk as shit, Q."

Quat tried to glare and it didn't quite work. "I'm not drunk!"

"Are too."

"Hah! Give me more scotch and I'll show you drunk!"

"You've had enough." I grinned. "I hid it."

Muttering evilly to himself under his breath, he started sorting through the booze clustered on the coffee table. I nipped off and refilled the scotch bottle with water and left it on the kitchen table. "You'll won't find it there!" I hooted. "I hid it in the kitchen where you'll never find it!"

"Ha!" he crowed. "We'll see about that!" I trailed him back into the kitchen. Quatre brandished the bottle of "scotch" at me, then slugged it back. He grimaced. "It tastes like tap water."

"You just don't know good scotch." Dammit, was he sobering up some?

He frowned and sipped from the bottle. "It tastes like tap water."

"It does not."

He wrinkled his face up. "Does too!"

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared dangerously. "Does too!"

He glared. "Does not!"

"It does too!"

He stuck his tongue out at me, and then tossed the water back. "Does not!"

I grinned. "It does too."

He slugged down some more. "It does not!"

I sighed. "Fine. If that's the way you want it."

"A sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to our steps as we walk the tightrope of life." He grinned and slogged down more water.

Heero, his yellow gloves curling into yellow latex fists, glared his you're fucking up my mission, quit it! glare from the doorway. "Don't let him drink any more, Master."

I winked and pointed my index finger like a gun at him. "Gotcha, babe."

Quat slurped some more. Heero growled something and stomped over and snatched the bottle away. Bastard. 

"Noooo!" Quatre howled.

"You've had eno—" Heero's nose twitched, you know, like a glowering blood hound with a homicidal attitude nose might twitch. "This is water."

Quatre did the koi, the fish koi, impression. "But Duo said it's scotch!"

I grinned. "Actually, I said you just don't know good scotch."

"Master," Heero purred with what I'd like to think of as a healthy level of admiration for both my uber sexy hunkiness and my ingenious mental prowess. "Go sit on the couch and wait for me. I'll put Quatre to bed."

Quatre squealed and tottered into Heero. "Ooh! Can I be your master, too? I have... _fantasies_."

No Quatre could _not_ be Heero's master, too. He could have more fantasies than he had credits all he damned well wanted to, but the real thing was _mine_ , dammit. I'd been a good boy all year and Christmas was coming up! Heero, that perfect soldier ass, wasn't agreeing. He wasn't disagreeing either. I didn't pout, not at all. Shinigami does _not_ pout. Shinigami broods in a mysterious, yet insanely attractive way. Pouting is so not me and I don't do it. I don't care what anyone says. I brooded. And no, my bottom lip was not sticking out. I resent the implication. Just like I resented the fact that Heero didn't just tell Quatre no, he would _not_ be Quat's Dream Sex Kitten Heero because he was already _my_ Dream Sex Kitten Heero and he was quite happy to be so, thank you very much. "Unless you want your butt to get Quatre christened, too, I wouldn't recommend a fireman's carry."

Heero just peeled off his yellow cleaning gloves with the fake red fingernails and gave me a _look_. This one was new. It was the kind you find on commercials for coffee or expensive diamond engagement rings during the soap operas. It was the look you'd see on the face of a boy when his dog comes running toward him after it had traveled thousands and thousands of kilometers through forests filled with dangerous predators, deadly whitewater rapids, and Relena's bedroom done up in precious pink. The God of Death may not pout, but he sure as hell melts like warm, gooey, head over heels in love chocolate. It didn't even bother me when Quatre started in on his Sultan Q and his g-boy Harem fantasy on the way to the bedroom.

I couldn't stop grinning like a jackass eating saw briars. Heero loved me! I felt like doing a large dance number complete with chorus girls and the can-can. Well, maybe I merengued my way around Q's apartment a little bit, but can you blame me? _Heero_ , my Dream Sex Kitten, said he loved me! And then he gave me a perfume ad _look_! Duo Maxwell had died and gone to Heero Loves Duo Heaven.

Hee-ee-ee-ro loves _me_! Step step step back back _kick_! Hee-ee-ee-ro loves _me_! Boom boom boom boom boom _bam_! Hee-ee—ee-ro loves _me_! Da da da da da _da_! Hee-ee-ee—

"Duo? What are you doing?"

I grinned sheepishly and dropped my arms back down. Dammit, my hip was cocked way out to the left and my butt was sticking out. I looked like a _complete_ idiot. "Uhm, a one man conga line?"

"Have you called Wufei, Master?"

"That was the direction I was heading."

"Doing this conga line thing."

"Yeah. Why?"

"Your hips were...." His hands spread about Duo-butt width apart and he shimmied them.

"That's about how you do the conga."

"Why?"

"I wanted to?"

Heero had the nerve to look amused. "Was that a guess or an answer, Master?"

I grinned wider. "I feel good, 'Ro. I dance when I feel good."

He leaned against the arm of the couch and crossed his arms over his chest. "Keep dancing."

"I can't now!"

He smiled. "Why not?"

"I'm embarrassed!"

"I like to see you feel good."

I couldn't help but smile at that. "Then dance with me!"

Now he frowned. I swear, sometimes the stick up his ass was about as big as the stick up Wu's ass.

"C'mon, Heero, please? Pretty pretty please?"

"I don't dance, Master."

"No problem! I'll teach ya. Howard taught me to do the conga, the merengue, the rhumba, the tango, the macarena, the salsa, the hula, and country line dancing." I stuck my tongue out of the side of my mouth, tapped my finger on my cheek, and smirked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Mmm, the conga is the easiest and I'll get to put my hands on your fine butt, however, the tango is easy and a lot of fun, too."

Heero's expression morphed into something that was a cross between his old let's go and blow up a few Ozzie bases tonight ninmu ryoukai expression and a gleam of pure blue eyed mischief that only kittens and Quatres can get. "No." He smirked. "Master."

Master, huh. I smirked back. "Fine then slave Dream Sex Kitten Heero, dance with me!"

The smirk only got more devilish. Heero...devilish. Uh. "No, Master." 

I pouted. Okay, so technically I'm the God of Death and as such, I don't pout, but I have been occasionally known to delve into the very masculine and super manly realm of pouting dangerously. Trust me, children and small dogs run yipping when they see it. "I said dance with me."

"Make me." 

"If you don't, I'll whine." I gave him a stern, I mean business glare. "A _lot_."

"You already whine a lot, Master." Was it just me or was that damned smirk getting more and more annoying?

I stomped over and poked him in the chest. "You don't want to piss me off, Yuy."

"What was it you told me, Master? Oh yes, better to be pissed off than pissed on."

Aargh! "That's it. You're in trouble now, mister."

He arched an eyebrow and purred, "Do tell."

I'm the God of Death, dammit! I'm intimidating! "Okay. You're grounded. No laptop for a week."

He laughed in my face. Heero Yuy _laughed_ in _my_ face. "I'm terrified, Master." I suppose it would have actually sounded true if he'd managed not to snicker when he said it.

"Don't mess me with me, Yuy."

He couldn't look more unintimidated if he friggin tried. "Or what?"

I gave him my best no one sees Shinigami and lives glare. "I'll... I'll..." Gimme a minute, I'll think of something.

He looked even more unimpressed, if that was possible. "You'll what? Spank me?" Then he gave me one of those patronizing little chuckles that might as well have been a pat on the behind and a request to come back in a few years when you've grown up a bit more. Bastard!

"Yeah!"

He rolled his eyes and all but said yeah, as if. That did it.

"That's it, you're getting it! Turn around and put your hands on the arm of the couch!" Right. Like he'd do it just because I said to. He wouldn't even dance with me—holy hell. He did it! That bastard did it! He pivoted, stuck his hands on the couch like I said and stuck his ass out. Of course, he had to go and ruin it by giving me this you're too much of a wimp to follow through look. "Drop your pants!" I barked like a total idiot who completely forgot that you just don't dare Heero Yuy to do anything because he'll call your bluff if you're not careful. How do I know this? Because the very next instant I was looking at bare Heero buns. Bare. As in _naked_. As in nothing covering them but a smooth layer of pretty golden expanse of _naked_ Heero skin. It's official. Drooling is a studly occupation. 

He smirked at me over his shoulder. "Let me know when you're finished."

I went from sweetheart to bitch in point zero one seconds—I saw that on a bumper sticker. Damn, where in the hell is Dorothy's hot chick in red latex dungeon of hell box when I need something to tan that butt with?

"That's what I thought," Heero said. Then he yawned. _Yawned_!! That bastard!

I lined up at the plate and let fly with the flat of my hand. I caught him hard across the right butt cheek, toward the bottom curve. He grunted and rocked forward. My hand hurt like a son of a bitch. Buns of steel my ass! Heero's are made of fucking gundanium! Owwww! I wanted to stick my whole hand in my mouth and suck the pain—holy _shit_. Oh my God! Oh my God! "Oh my God!"

There, on his perfect gundanium butt cheek, was a huge ass angry red welting up Duo's palm sized hand print. I could already see it starting to swell and turn funny shades of purple and green and yellow and blue until the busted capillaries rotted and he had to have surgery to have it removed and forever marred that beautiful, wonderful absolutely perfect butt cheek. Oh my God! 

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" I ran screaming for the kitchen and flung all the doors on Q's industrial sized fridge open. There was ice in trays and a bin. No time. There was no time. I grabbed a bag of frozen carrots and dove for the under sink cabinet where Q kept his first aid kit. My Heero was surely in agony even worse than that time he set his own leg. The pain of a broken femur was nothing compared to the gangrene ridden crippling injury I'd just dealt him.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!" 

Breathe. Breathe. Mustn't panic. Okay. First aid for emergencies. First, apply ice to get the swelling down so it doesn't swell up so much it puts pressure on the tailbone which is a part of his spine and oh my God! He could be paralyzed! He hadn't moved from his spot. My Heero was agony! I slapped the frozen carrots on his butt and dumped the entire contents first aid kit on the couch cushion in front of him. Anti-bacterial ointment, burn cream, hand sanitizer, condoms? What in the hell did Quatre need condoms in a first aid kit for? No time for that. No anti-paralysis bruise ointment. The anti-bacterial stuff would have to do. It would stop gangrene from setting in, right?

Heero yanked the carrots off of his ass and glared at them. "Duo? What in the hell are you doing?"

"Put those carrots back on your butt before you get paralyzed! We got to keep the swelling down goddammit!"

He gave me a wonder filled look so he must have been shocked at the amount of loving concern I felt for him. Or maybe he just objected to the carrots. Honestly, what kind of objection could he have to frozen carrots? They're saving his life, dammit! 

"I can get peas instead. Q has frozen peas and some frozen broccoli if you don't like the carrots."

"Have you lost your mind?"

I blinked, ready to squirt antibacterial ointment on his butt. "What?"

"Baka. Look at my butt."

"I'm trying very hard not to."

"Why?"

I blushed. "It would be very rude to pop a woody while you're in mortal agony."

"Baka." Heero whimpered an agonized whimper that sounded a lot like a chuckle. "I'm fine. It stung a little, that was it. No agony. No swelling."

"But there's this big handprint!"

He rolled his eyes. "You spanked me with your hand, what did you expect?" He pulled up his britches, shoved all the first aid stuff off the couch, and sat. On his poor, wounded backside even. I let him tug me into his lap without letting go of the ointment. "I'm a gundam pilot. I've self-destructed twice. I've broken bones. I've been tortured. What makes you think I can't handle a little slap?"

Well, since he put it that way, it did sound kinda stupid. "Um...."

"You turn me on when you go Shinigami." 

I don't care. I put my hand on his cheek and blinked up at his face. "I don't want to hurt you."

He gave me a small, soft smile. "It's okay, Master, I wanted you to."

"But it's no—" Wait a minute. Back the truck up, sister. "You _wanted_ me to _spank_ you?"

He blushed. Sort of. 

Somewhere along the way there had been a little too much kittens and Quatres in Heero's face. Just a little too much evil, slimey, manipulative bastardy gleaming going on in those eyes that generally only gleamed homicidally. Two and two floated together in my brain and came up to four. I may not have the brightest beam cannon on my gundam, but I'm still no slouch with a thermal scythe. "You tricked me! You bastard!"

Bastard didn't even look even a _little_ bit contrite. Remorse? Oh hell no. He was the very picture of grinning smugness, only without the actual grin.

Spank hell, I was gonna kill him! I was gonna show him exactly what omae o korosu means in real life! News flash, buddy boy! Omae o korosu is _not_ how you say I love you! I'm fucking Shinigami, I should fucking know! "You made me _hit_ you!" 

"You didn't hit me, Master. You _spanked_ me." Then he pouted. Heero fucking Yuy _pouted_. "And it wasn't a very good one either. One little spank and you're panicking with frozen carrots. Is that a phallic thing? Duo, your penis is the perfect size."

"No it's not and they're _sliced_ carrots. I don't want to slice my pen—" No. I'm not gonna get into my widdle winky and the rest of my myriad sexual dysfunctionality. "God dammit, Heero! Enough about the fucking carrots! You tricked me into hitting you! What the hell for?"

He glared. "I _like_ your penis."

"Like you've ever seen it! Back to this making me assault your butt with my hand. What the hell for?"

He blushed, a dull, angry red. "I've seen your penis several times, Master. One memorable occasion occurred our last night at St. Gabriel's. You thought I was asleep."

Heero wasn't the only one blushing. I tell you what. 

"It was an interesting performance, Master."

"Hello! Trick spankings ring a bell?"

He grunted. Bastard. "You have a very nice handful, though it was too dark to see skin color and venous patterns."

"We're talking about that _spanking_ you engineered, not my penis." It's my personal opinion that Heero's growling has nothing on mine when I'm PO'd.

"Since we were in our early adolescence at the time, I imagine you've gotten more pubic hair since. Again, I didn't get to see hair color or note the texture."

Heero Yuy is talking about the color of my pubic hair. Heero _Yuy_ is talking about my _pubic_ hair. Well slap me and call me Betty.

"I was able to note the color later." He smirked. "There is something to be said for communal showers in a locker room."

I know my mouth was moving. I could feel my lips and tongue going through the motions, but nothing was coming out 'cause I couldn't hear it and that was probably a good thing because God only knows what I would have said other than it wouldn't have shown off my facility of intellect at all. 

"Unfortunately, you were not aroused so I was unable to verify other pertinent details." He grunted in annoyance. "At that time, I did not have the necessary intelligence on your sexual proclivities to change that. I had heard that teenaged boys were prone to erections every time the wind changed. Fanning you with a towel did not produce the desired result, though I did learn how to use a towel as a whip."

I remembered that. I'd been annoyed because Heero had been glaring at me like I'd done something dumb, like tell the Wonder Princess where he was or take Wing out for a test drive without permission. And then he started waving that towel around like some kind of loon and I'd honestly thought he was trying to towel fight when he whacked me with it. He was a perv! Heero Yuy was a perv! " _That's_ what you were doing? You were trying to give me a hard on by waving a towel around?"

He turned red and nodded.

"Jeez, 'Ro. All you to do was bend over in front of me. I'd've had a boner a cat couldn't scratch for a week."

"I was somewhat ignorant of biological functions." He narrowed his eyes. "Does that still work?"

"Yeah." Wait a minute. No way he was gonna distract me, dammit. "Back to the original question. Why'd you make me spank you? You know I don't like to hurt people, especially you!"

He was back to glaring. "I'd rather talk about your penis."

"And I'd rather talk about your Catalonia like impulse to instigate a hand to butt battle."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

He gave me a don't be stupid look. He wasn't going to fall for it like Quatre did. Dammit. "I want to see you naked."

I grunted my best Heero Yuy grunt of disdain and dismissal. "Spanking. Talk. Now."

"Fine," he snapped. Never let it be said that Heero ever gave in with anything approaching grace. He did it more like a hippo with a toothache facing a lunch full of artichokes and bean curd. "I wanted to make sure you knew that you are in charge. You're the master." He glared at me like he used to back when we were hiding out in school during the war and I was too busy carving dirty limericks into the desktops to pay any attention to the teachers. "I will set up a tutoring schedule for you with Dorothy Catalonia so next time you spank me, you'll do it properly, Master."

"Doro? Aw hell, can't I just get a self-help book and some psycho perv porn or something? I mean, damn, the 'Net is loaded with this stuff."

"No. You have always learned more efficiently when you've been able to ask questions. You will learn from Dorothy."

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the carpet. I should stress that I most certainly was _not_ pouting. "God, fine. Dotty De Sade prolly knows more about a good spanking than leather porn anyway." Hand to butt, skip the frozen carrots. How hard could it be? A couple minutes of blushing, tops, blow her off on the nearest big-nosed victim, and I'd be good to go.

He grunted his I just unloaded a pound of whoop ass on some unsuspecting Ozzies and damn, I feel good grunt. "Good. If you have any questions about sex, ask me. I've studied it extensively. For example, I will never overlook the sensitivity of your anus in favor of your—"

Oh. My. God. Heero was giving me a mission briefing on anal sex.

"—prostate. Manual and oral stimulation of the anus can be very pleasurable if given sufficient atten—"

A _mission_ briefing. We will proceed to the anal area of insertion via a standard two by two infiltration pattern from the left flank. Rimming will commence at 0430 hours. Oh my fucking God. He was talking about manual and oral stimulation of the anus. _My_ anus. _His_ manual and oral. _Heero_. Rimming. And me. All together at the same time. Holy _fuck_.

"—Duo?"

You ever see the _Preventers: Black Ops_ vid where Mike Stallion has to make a dangerous escape through a posh penthouse hotel suite from killer ex-Ozzies? Yeah, I had trouble with putting "dangerous escape" and "posh penthouse hotel suite" in the same sentence without laughing like a loon, too. Lemme tell you, Agent Magnum had _nothing_ on Agent Shinigami Runs and Hides and I Ain't Tellin' a Lie. I bypassed the bathtub in favor of the linen closet. Quatre doesn't keep his porno in his linen closet, just towels and sheets and junk. He must be sharing fashion tips with Hilde. Just to be safe, I covered my head with one of those towels. 

Overlook the sensitivity of your anus. Holy shit. He might as well have been listing the gear calibrations for the individual servos on Wing's left pinky. Okay, so it might not have been so bad if Heero Junior hadn't started prodding me in the thigh, if you know what I mean. Fuck. I can be shy if I want. I'm a _virgin_. I'm kinda allowed to freak out. Who the hell wouldn't? Even Her Pink Majesticness would be cowering in the back of Quat's linen closet with a towel on her head.

The closet door opened and Heero squatted down. I could see the muscles in his thighs flexing and bunching under those painted on jeans he was wearing. The convenient thing about wearing a towel on your head is the immediacy of drool wipeage.

"Duo," he sighed. "Don't you think you're taking this run and hide thing of yours a bit far?"

I yanked the towel down farther until all I could see were his knees. "I'm not Duo. I'm a towel."

He sat down, his back to the door jamb, and incidentally cut off any routes of escape except through drywall. "What set you off this time? Does the idea of sex with me make you nervous?"

Sex. With Heero. My dick was doing a victory dance. My stomach was lurching like a rowboat in a hurricane. "Me? Nervous?" I forced a nonchalant laugh. 

"You sound like an asphyxiating rabbit."

Okay, so maybe my skills at nonchalant were somewhat non-existent at the moment. I curled around my knees. "Okay, maybe I'm just a little bit nervous. I emphasize the word _little_."

"Duo, your penis is not little."

"Argh! What is it with you and your fixation on the size of my penis?"

"Well, it _is_ going to be inside of me." He was purring. And smirking, too. But purring. I was squeaking, but we won't get into that. "I like your penis, Master."

"And quit calling me master!"

Was it just me or was he gnashing his teeth? "You _are_ my master."

I grabbed my braid with both hands and pulled just to feel the tug on my scalp. It was about the only thing that was going to keep me from screaming in frustration which would wake up Quatre who would probably do something unhelpful, like spout his fantasies about Treize and Wufei. "No you're not. You're not anyone's slave and I'm not anyone's master. I'm just Duo and you're just Heero and that's just what we are. No masters and no slaves. Got it? Just two people. _Equal_ people."

He tried to pry my fingers from my braid. "You're my master." He grabbed my head before I could whack it on the wall a few times to make myself feel better. He tugged my hand, braid and all, to his chest, pressing it against his sternum. "Here."

And Wu says I make no sense. Humph. I lifted the towel up enough to peek up at his face. "Huh?"

"My heart. It's, it belongs to you. I want to make you smile. Happy." He glared at me fiercely. Ninmu ryoukai to tenth power. "Whatever it takes. You tell me and I'll do it, Master."

"Quit calling me master."

"No."

Can you blame for screaming like a girl? 

"Do you understand, Master?"

"Understand? You want to make me happy, but you still keep calling me master. _That's_ what I understand."

He grunted his I'm getting seriously annoyed because you're fucking up my mission and you'd better stop it grunt. Either that or he was getting a cramp. "You _are_ my master."

I grunted my own annoyed grunt and yanked the towel back down over my face. He pulled at it and I refused to let go. After a brief, make that embarrassingly brief tug-of-war, he threw the towel into the bathroom. "Dammit, Heero!"

"You're my master," he said as if those very words would prevent war for eternity.

Since it was obviously really important to him, I scrunched my face up and thought about that really hard. It didn't work; I still didn't get it. "Repeat that, only use different words."

He gave me the glare that made me want to wrap myself around him and tell him everything was going to be okay.

"I get the feeling you're trying to tell me something important and I'm just not getting it."

He grunted again, frowning. "I love you." It took everything I had not to get up and do the mambo, but I'm pretty sure I was noticeably thrumming in ecstasy because his frown softened. "My mission is to make you happy. You're the one who knows what makes you happy. Therefore, you define the mission parameters. You are my master." If he said like J, I'd pinch his butt cheek and so not in a good way either. He cocked his head to look at me sidelong, like a cocker spaniel puppy plotting to take over the world. "You're my master because I want you to be."

I guess that kind of made really warped sense. Relationships that weren't defined by a chain of command were pretty much outside of his experience, right? I could work with that. I loved him and he said he loved me. All I had to do was teach him that making me happy wasn't a mission to accomplish, but something he did just by sticking with me. Easy.

Convince Heero Yuy that his mission wasn't a mission was going to be easy? Riiiiiight. Dream the hell on Maxwell.


	10. The Super Pout of Justice Versus the Puppy Dog Eyes of Death

Mission Convince Heero That Love Is Not a Mission was going swimmingly. I've always wanted to say that. Swimmingly. I overheard it at one of Quat's snooty parties that I ended up attending as his bodyguard mostly because I was bored and Quatre figured I'd crash it anyway so he saved everyone the trouble. Wufei says it was to make sure I didn't eat the buffet, get drunk, and do a strip tease on the table with a lampshade on my head, but what the hell does he know? Let me tell you true, you think young guys are perverts? Ha! There ain't a male alive that's got older society chicks beat for perversion. Okay, so my ass was black and blue from swats and pinching and Rashid later suggested that I be offered a more permanent party bodyguard position because that was the first time Master Quatre had been able to sit down after one of those damned things. Me? I had to stand to eat my breakfast. Swimmingly. Right.

My first step was to be clear in my goals because it's kind of iffy on how Heero will interpret subtlety. Actually, he only really gets subtle hints if they involve combat. You know, sometimes I think he does that on purpose just to annoy me.

"Heero. Love is not a mission."

Heero paused in turning down the bed in Quat's guest room to blink at me. "Okay."

Yes! We have achieved ninmu kanryu. Congratulations, team, good job.

"Where do you want me to sleep, Master?"

Make that ninmu shippai. I tried not to grit my teeth. "Where ever you'd like to sleep."

He gave me a low wattage glare, like the kind powered by a cheap nightlight with cuddly kitties and butterflies on it. "I want to sleep where it would please you."

No way, Heero. I smiled and tried to keep it sweetly toothsome and not all about baring fangs. "It would please me for you to sleep where ever you want to sleep."

His glare painted a Doberman on his cuddle kitty nightlight. "The only place I want to sleep is where it would make you happy."

I glowered. "All I have to do is drink a little coffee and I can keep this up all night."

"Quit being so damned stubborn, Master. Where do you want me to sleep?"

 _Me_ , stubborn? Argh! Heero Yuy the sex slave was entirely too aggravating! "Where would you like to sleep?"

"Where you want me to."

Wait. Tacos. Heimlich Maneuver. Minor bout with unconsciousness. Heero's husky, seductive voice drugging my mind with euphoria. _I want to sleep here. With you_. Or something like that. I grinned with all of my teeth. "You want to sleep with me." _I want to sleep in your bed_. "In my bed. You said so. I remember."

He gave me an annoyed glare, but didn't try to deny it.

"You take the left side of the bed, I'll get the right."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "No. You'll sleep on the left side."

"But the door is closer to the right side! What if I have to get a snack in the middle of the night?"

The glare deepened. "You'll wake me up and I'll get the snack for you, Master."

"Sure, but what if I have to pee? You gonna help me out with that, too? Give me a shake and wipe?"

"If it would please you, Master."

I had a brief, cringing flash of Heero's hand on my dick after a refreshing whizz. Yeeeeahh okay. That was _so_ not going to happen. "No. I get the side by the door," I stated firmly and decisively.

Before I could gather my wits, Heero picked me up and deposited me on the wrong side of the bed. He flopped in beside me and yanked the covers over us.

"You suck as a slave, you know that?"

"I'm a damned good slave, Master."

"Well, _slave_ , you left the lights on."

Growling, he threw the covers off and slunk—FYI, Heero plus slinking equals wild tiger sexy, _mee-yow_ —over to turn off the lights. Not bothering to stifle the smug grin on my face, one should never stifle oneself, I took my time arranging myself on the side of the bed closest to the door. Take that Heero Yuy! 

He did, too. That bastard. For a man who can bend steel, picking up one dinky lil' Duo Maxwell and dropping him off on the other side of the bed is child's play. Bastard! He scootched in under the covers again and wrapped me up in his arms. His fingers brushed my bangs and he pressed an absentminded kiss across the side of my nose. I'm guessing that Heero, Mr. Dead Eye Dick Perfect Marksman, missed whatever he was aiming his lips at because he tried it again and tagged my eyeball. 

God. Hello Yuy, it's dark in the room. You can't see with your eyes so use your fingers! "Heero, do it _this_ way." I groped for his cheeks and held his face still beneath my palms. My thumbs traced the contours of his lips and he sucked in a loud breath. I liked that so much I did it again right before I leaned over and planted one on his kisser, my thumbs were the runway and his mouth was the landing pad. "Now you try."

"Hm." Well. It's better than a grunt, I guess.

His fingers touched my face, slowly tracing around my cheeks and brushing lightly around my jaw. Then he licked along my throat.

Oh.

And nibbled at my collarbone.

My.

And nuzzled lower, pushing my shirt up so he could find bare flesh. With his teeth. The kind of bare flesh that gets all nipply _really_ quick when he's nipping at it. You'll note that he had no trouble at all finding either one in the dark. 

"Heero, God."

He was probably smirking when he wasn't sucking on my nipples. If you ever wondered what man-nipples were good for, suck on one and watch him turn into your love slave right before your very lips. Especially if you suck on them with little flicks of your tongue and little scrapes with your teeth just like Heero was doing to mine. And to make it even better, trail your fingers down along his uber sexy six pack like mine to where his jammie bottoms were just barely covering his _other_ erectile bits that are getting all perky and wrap your fingers around the shaft and rub your thumb over the head where—

" _Heero_!"

"Sssh, you'll wake up Quatre."

I didn't give a rat's behind. What his hands were doing to my little guy should get a Nobel fucking Peace prize. If I could get him to do that forever, I'd never leave the house.

"Thank you, Master," Heero said, sounding incredibly amused, "but I don't need a Nobel."

Shit, I said that _out loud_? Shit, where did Heero learn to do _that_? "Heero!"

A hand clamped over my mouth. "Ssh! I don't want to hear any more about Chang Wufei and Treize Khushrenada tonight, if you don't mind, Master."

My eyes popped open. Oh hell. Quatre and his... _fantasies_.

"Quatre is drunk enough to try to join us." 

I cringed. I couldn't help it. Quatre would stumble in, get excited like a puppy about hopping right into the action, and then he would get these big, huge eyes full of tears, a quivering lip, and sniffle his way to the door like a puppy that got kicked, twice, when we told him we didn't want to have sex with him. Not that he wasn't cute or anything, but, c'mon, he's _Quatre_. That'd be like having sex with your little brother. Eww.

"Master," Heero was back to sounding amused again, "perhaps we should continue this at home, later, where you can scream my name all you like."

I felt all indignant as a wet cat drinking rich cream. "I wasn't screaming."

"I like it when you scream my name, Master. I plan on making you do it," he licked along my throat, "a _lot_."

"Oh dear God."

"Not God, just Heero, Master."

Okay, that was flat _awful_. I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep the giggles from getting loud enough to wake up the drunken blonde pervert. I don't think I've seen a sex related comedy once that didn't have that old joke in it. I don't know what was funnier, the fact that Heero said it, or the fact that Heero said it in monotone. Okay, maybe it wasn't quite that funny.

"Whatever, let's just go to sleep, okay? Quatre is going to have the hangover from hell tomorrow and I'm going to hide in the closet while you deal with it."

He snorted. "You'll help."

"Will not."

"You will. Go to sleep, Master."

"I'm not—eep!"

He tugged me up against him, shoving my head onto his shoulder, and then slipped his hand—his ice cold hand, not the nice warm one he'd used earlier—under my pajamas and clutched my buttcheek the same way he used to hang on to his gun back in the war. Hm. Maybe his other hand was cold, too, but he was boldly fondling where no man had fondled before and I was too, erm, fondled to notice. Well, maybe not because the boys tend to climb up inside the body when they get chilly.

I cuddled closer into him and grinned. A week ago, heck not even three days ago, I never would have believed that I, Duo Maxwell, would have my shoulder snuggled into Heero Yuy's armpit while he groped my butt under my jammies. 

Life was going damned swimmingly. For me, anyway. For Quatre? I don't think our little cuddle buddy was ever gonna drink again. He woke Heero up the next morning when he stumbled through the place into the bathroom where the water ran in the sink for like half an hour. Heero, being the good sex slave that he is, woke me up and told me to go check on Quatre while he made some coffee. The bastard shoved me out of bed when I rolled over and covered my head with a pillow. Talk about injustice.

Quatre was flopped over the bathroom sink, moaning. I reached around him to shut the water off.

"Oh, please, just shoot me now," he groaned.

"No can do. Heero's making you some coffee."

"I want to die. My head. Why did you let me drink so much?"

Right. Like _I_ had anything to do with it. "It was water. Let's get to the kitchen now. We'll dig you out some painkillers or something."

He gurgled incoherently, but didn't move. Dammit, Quatre, I wanted some coffee.

"Kitchen, now, or I'm going to yodel."

He cracked open an eye to glare at me. "You're evil."

"And you love me for it. Coffee and analgesics, the breakfast of champions. Move it."

He pushed himself upright and tottered into the kitchen with a brief detour to the foyer table thingie for a pair of sunglasses.

Heero arched an eyebrow when Quatre collapsed into a chair, pressing his cheek to the table, and covering his head with both of his arms. I arched one right back. He grunted and put a mug and a few pills on the table next to hangover boy.

"Now I understand the prohibition against alcohol." Quatre smiled at Heero, then winced. He swallowed the pills and sipped the coffee. "I will _never_ drink again."

"Aww, Quatre, you were just so _adorable_ last night!" I grinned at him. "You remember any of it?"

He glared at me sourly. Well, it looked like it was a sour kind of glare because his mouth got all turned down and puckered like he was sucking lemons. "Too much of it. Did you have to encourage me? I hit on Heero!" He winced and rubbed gingerly at his temples.

"Encourage you? I couldn't stop you! My God, I have heard more about Chang Wufei and Treize Khushrenada having sex than I _ever_ wanted to hear. You are _such_ a pervert!"

All of the blood drained from his face, leaving behind a pasty, half-greenish tint. "I told you about _that_?"

"And Little Duo Riding Hood and the Big Bad Zechs," Heero growled.

Quatre slumped to the table again. "Please don't tell Wufei."

I smirked "What's it worth to ya?"

"Master." Heero gave me his you do anything, a-ny-thing at all, to Wing and you'll be missing body parts glare.

"Good grief, Wing is _gone_ , Heero. Self-destruct, kablooey. Any of that ring a bell?"

He blinked, his glare going slack. Quatre lowered his shades to squint at me. Heero settled his quit confusing me, dammit, glare into place. "You will _not_ tell Wufei about Quatre's fantasies or I'll tell Trowa about your King Duo and Queen Trowa-vere fantasy."

"Uh, 'Ro, that's Quatre's fantasy, not mine."

"Run, hide, but never tell a lie is your motto, not mine."

"You wouldn't!"

The bastard just smirked. 

Quatre quietly set the sunglasses next to his coffee mug. "Duo, I need your help."

"Sure thing, Quatre. You better not, Heero, or I'll tell, uh...." I couldn't think of anything suitably intimidating, but I would!

Quatre took a careful sip of his coffee, then set the mug down with an exaggerated care that didn't do anything to keep the clink quiet. "It's time that I got over this silly infatuation I have with Trowa. His friendship is very important to me, but he is just my friend. I think that it's time for me to start dating."

Heero gave me his worried glare and I gave him my worried look. "Right. Well, I have met a few reasonably nice men since I've been here, but I don't think the people in my social circle are really your speed. Most of them don't even know what a fork is for."

He smiled a bit. "No, I can find people to date, but look at me. I look like a twelve year old boy. I'm only going to attract gold-diggers and pedophiles."

Heero nodded sharply. "Duo and I will both make certain that any prospects are suitable, have clean backgrounds, and will treat you properly."

Quatre sighed. "Rashid and Abdul already have what they call a Master Quatre Suitor Protocol in place that does that. I couldn't talk them out of it. I'm not sure exactly what it involves, but I know there are extensive background checks, references, and some intimidation involved. " He smiled again, staring off into space. "Trowa apparently failed the MQSP in several areas."

Well, if he didn't need me to find him a guy or to scare the living bejeezus—face it, Shinigami was terrifying, but the Maganac Daddy Corps would be ten times more effective—out of anyone, then there wasn't much I could do, really. "Uh, well, I'm not sure I can do much for you. I can be moral support. My shoulder is always open and we can have sleep overs, do each other's hair, and gossip about our boys."

"I need a makeover."

Heero and I exchanged worried glares and looks again. "A what?"

"I have a plan and the first step I will implement is a new personal image. One that shows that I'm a man, not some schoolboy fresh out of puberty. I want to be attractive and sexy. If I'm going to do this dating thing, then I might as well do it properly and that means having fun with it."

This was starting to sound an awful lot like some of the mission-y things we used to do, way back when we were kicking ass and taking names in huge, super-powerful weapons of mass destruction, doom, and terror. "A plan? You have a _plan_ that you're going to _implement_?" 

Quatre beamed, then winced and toned it down. "Of course! You have to have a plan to get anything done properly. Once I have the right personal image, the next step is to look over the prospects and meet people so that I can assess what I am and am not looking for in a potential dating partner. Once I have a set of criteria, I can move to the casual dating step to see who suits me and who doesn't. After that, I can settle into a more serious dating schedule with a few candidates culled from the wider dating pool, and then, hopefully, fall deeply in love with one and live happily ever after." He grinned impishly. "I believe I will add sex slave to list of requirements. We can compare notes, Duo."

"So you want me to help you figure out what guy will make a sex slave? That's not my—"

"Oh, no, no, no. I need you to help me become sexy."

I tried to share a third worried glare with Heero, but he was scratching his chin and looking at Quatre thoughtfully. Spoilsport. "Uh, sexy?"

"Yup! I need an entire new wardrobe, I need to learn how behave to project the image that I want, and I think it would help if I learned to do the informal dances that sexy people do with each other. I need you to help me to do that." He gave me a low-wattage grin. "I'm not intense enough to be Wufei or Heero's kind of sexy, but I think that I'm enough like you in temprament to adapt your kind of sexy to my own style."

My jaw hit the table, crashed through it, and bitch slapped the linoleum. 

Heero, that traitor, just nodded. "I agree that Duo offers you the best chance of success in this mission."

Quatre smiled at Heero, as all pleased with himself as a puppy that just managed to catch its own tail.

I slapped my hand over my eyes just so I didn't have to witness this travesty of not getting hip deep into trouble-ness. I just couldn't wrap my head around the whole Quatre as Duo as Sexy idea that they were calmly discussing as if they were trying to decide between straight cotton drawers or a cotton blend! "You can't be _Duo_ sexy because you're already _Quatre_ sexy. You're not me, you're you. Being a long-haired baka just won't work for you. You got to be you and make that work. You know, do the Quatre thing. If you find some guy that thinks Quatre as Duo is sexy, what have you got? A man that's after Heero's guy, that's what!"

Quatre sighed. "Duo, the last man that thought I was sexy wanted me to shave my private area, put on short pants, carry a Wing Gundam lunchbox, sit on his lap, and ask him to explain to me why I felt funny inside whenever I saw the other boys take down their pants in the bathroom."

"They have _Wing_ lunchboxes?!" I was outraged. "I want a 'Scythe lunchbox!"

"Ninmu ryoukai," Heero said. I think he was making fun of me. 

"Duo, you're deliberately missing the point."

"The point is that Deathscythe was _the_ best gundam. Ever!"

Heero very carefully did not laugh at me. You could see it written all over his face. "You should call Dorothy Catalonia, Quatre. She can help you."

The Spawn of Satan? Teaching Quatre how to be _sexy_? "No! No fucking way! I saw all of her hot chick in red latex torture chamber instruments of eternal damnation and boo-boos on the buttocks! There is now way in hell that a woman who put a cock harness and a collar on you is getting anywhere _near_ Quatre!"

"Dorothy put a cock harness on you?" Quatre didn't sound properly disgusted at all, like all normal, sane, and even remotely human people would. Oh no, our closet blonde pervert sounded intrigued.

Heero nodded. "She trained me to be Master Duo's sex slave."

Quatre hummed thoughtfully. "I believe that I'll give Dorothy a call to see if she can free her schedule for some shopping."

"No, no, Quatre! She'll turn you into a pervert and take you on a six hour shoe shopping safari and you'll never get a date with anyone that's not completely psychotic or doesn't have the eyebrow thing!"

"Duo, I appreciate that you're trying to protect me, but my mind is made up."

I pouted. Quatre had the power of cute at his disposal. All I had in my little arsenal was whining and pouting. Whining hadn't worked, so it was time to pull out all stops. The Duo Maxwell Super Pout of Justice was winging its way straight toward Quatre's guilt producing glands. Not that I pout, or anything, because pouting just isn't manly and if there's anything Duo Maxwell is, it's manly. I put the machismo in machinist. Ask anyone, they'll tell ya.

Quatre's face fell. Oh, I see how it was gonna be. An all out cage match of cute versus adorable. A mano a mano grudge match of doom where the CuteRock would do his best to take down Adorablescythe Hell. Raw is War, baby! His already big sea-blue eyes got even bigger and developed this dewy moistness that made everyone from Colonel Une right on down to fuzzy caterpillars cave. "I love Trowa and I always will, just like I love you and Heero, but last night, I did my grieving for what will never be and today I will start a new future, one where Trowa and I will always have each other as best of friends. I hope that you will help me accomplish my goals, but if you can't, then I will understand. Your friendship means just as much to me, Duo."

Heero snorted. "Pretty speech, Winner." 

Quatre stuck his tongue out at Heero. "Well. So I'm not _over_ Trowa, but, dammit, I'm going to _try_!"

I elbowed Heero and grinned. "Quatre said _dammit_."

Quatre fiddled with the shades. "Are you going to help me, Duo? Or am I going to have to rely on Dorothy's discretion?"

I had a brief image of Dorothy turning Quatre into some man's sex toy just like she did Heero. Heero could protect himself from anyone who treated him like a hooker, but Quatre? Who would protect Quatre? Dammit anyway. I couldn't even get cheezed about being so blatantly manipulated, either. "I'll help you. I just want to make sure you know what you're doing, okay? Dorothy's a great girl, but her personal AI is missing a few necessary subroutines."

He slipped his sunglasses back. "So, I need something for Relena's house party this weekend. What time can you meet me?"

I tried to do the worried glare exchange with Heero again, but he wasn't having any of it. "I can get two or three hours for lunch and make it up after work. Does noon work for you?"

"Yes, it's fine. Where are we going?"

"Mall. Meet me by the food so I can get some lunch before we hit the shops. If you get a hold of Doro, tell her we'll find her in one of her shoe stores."

"She's not that bad, is she?"

"On the day she gave me my very own Heero Yuy to love and hug and kiss and snuggle, we spent six hours hitting every shoe store twice. She's not that bad, she's worse." I wrinkled my nose. "I think she does it on purpose."

"Well, no shoe shopping with Dorothy, then." Quatre frowned a little. "Will this extra long lunch be a problem with Wufei? I know you two don't get along very well and I don't want to cause you any trouble with your partner."

"Wufei! Shit!" Shit! Shit! Shit! I'd _completely_ forgotten to call Wufei last night! I bet he had to take a cab to the office, too. He was gonna be _pissed_. Not the usual yell at Duo until my sphincter unclenches and I can relax for the rest of day kind of pissed, either. He was going to be _pissed_ pissed. I can't believe I forgot. Well, actually, I could see why I got distracted.. What with Heero tricking me into spanking him, that rat bastard, the whole embarrassing frozen carrot incident, and then Heero's How to Infiltrate Duo's Anus mission briefing—which I would probably blush over for the _rest_ of my _life_ —followed by that kissing. That wonderful, fabulous, I have died the little death and ran the sperm marathon kissing. 

"Maxwell! You are _late_! Where are you? Why do have that idiotic smile on your face?"

"Uh, yeah, I kinda noticed. I'm at Quatre's. Are you _sure_ you want to know why I'm smiling?" I gave him the best chagrined grin I could under the circumstances to go with. He turned yellow. No shit. Bright yellow. Chartreuse, even. "Anyway. I was going to call you last night and let you know, but I got, um, kinda distracted. I'm really, sorry, Wufei. I won't leave you hanging like that again, I promise." I tried _really_ hard not to have the patented Quatre puppy face on because I really did feel bad about leaving Wufei out in the cold, but I don't think I quite managed it..

He glared at the corner of his vidphone as if it were planning on committing genocide in his kitchen. "I did not need a ride this morning. Marquise arrived promptly at 0630. I tried to phone you, but you were not home. I left a note."

"Zechs gave you a ride to work? Way to go, you sly dog."

He went with puce, this time, I think. "It's not like that, Maxwell! It was simply one co-worker extending a courtesy to another co-worker. Marquise is both conscientious and a gentleman." Wufei narrowed his eyes at me. "Marquise is the sort of man to inspire admiration and confidence in others. He is sort that both Preventers and those growing into their manhood would do well to emulate."

This from a man whose idea of the highest of praise is to tell you that infrequently you're not a complete fuck-up when you shut up and do what he tells you. And Wufei claims that he just admires Zechs as a fellow warrior. Can we say _I'm too far in the closet, please email me some light and a map_? I tried not to roll my eyes, I really did. "Sure, Wu. It doesn't hurt that Zechs has an ass that should be bronzed and put on a pedestal in a fine art museum, either."

Wufei glowered. "Perhaps someone should inform Yuy of your _admiration_ for Marquise?" How in the hell does he do that? I never got the hang of enunciating perfectly with my teeth clenched and jaws grinding like that.

I smirked and leaned forward a bit. "I'll admit, Zechs is a sexy piece of work, all right, but I have a taste for Asian men." I batted my eyelashes at him for good measure.

The veins on his head about popped open before he stabbed at his vidphone and cut me off. His buttons were just so damned easy to push and I was too much of a born again sinner to resist the temptation to push like crazy.

"So Zechs is a sexy piece of work?"

I grinned sheepishly up at an amused Heero. "Not as sexy as you, babe."

"Or Wufei?"

I stuck my tongue out at him. Hey, if it worked for Quatre. He just grinned, no shit, an honest to god tooth flashing grin, at me. I usually wanted to just glomp the hell out of him and rub my face all over his body in joy when he glared at me. The grin? Same thing, only I couldn't resist the temptation. I wrapped myself around him, rubbing my cheek against his, and he barely managed to keep from hitting the floor. I am _the_ glomp master, baby.

"Ahem." Quatre could go suck pocky. I was glomping, dammit.

Heero pushed me off. "Later, Master," he admonished. I wrinkled my face up, crossed my arms over my chest, and glared dangerously at him. "You have to get ready for work. I've got a few things to take care of, but I'll pick you up at eleven thirty."

I arched my eyebrow. "Don't think Une will approve of my jammies?"

He smirked and poked at a spot just above my dick. "This spot is a stained."

Eh? "So?"

His smirk turned positively naughty. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was leering. "Don't you remember how you got that stain?"

Like it matters. Food always hits my lap. "Dinner or something. I'm a messy eater."

"What did you call it back at St. Gabriel's? A protein shake?"

A _what_? "A pro—oh. Um. Right. Okay." I shut up before I could talk myself into the pit of undying embarrassment over this one. 

Quatre snickered, though. I didn't look at the little blonde bastard. He would be enjoying the hell out of this, the evil jerk. A _lot_. I stuck my nose in the air and swept into the bathroom like I was Queen Elizabeth Bathory. No, wait, that was the bathe in virgin's blood chick. Or was it shower? And maybe it didn't have to be a virgin. I'd have to ask Wufei the next time we were on a really long stakeout and he had zero access to reference materials.

I was kind of disappointed when Heero pulled the bathroom door shut behind me, with him on the _wrong_ side of the door. The wrong side being, of course, outside of the bathroom. Dammit, he was supposed to be my sex slave. How in the hell did he plan on washing my hair if he wasn't in here with me? Nevermind that I didn't actually have _time_ to wash the 'do and would have kicked him out anyway. He could have at least made the effort. I did not pout my way through a shower and I certainly did not pout when I pulled on the clean uniform Heero had brought along from my closet. I sulked. All sulking stopped instantly when Heero showed up with breakfast, though. Gotta love a man who can anticipate your needs. 

When we got down the parking garage, I noticed something really odd right off. My car was in a visitor's slot. _My_ car. Not Heero's car. Not the neighbor's hotwired and borrowed car. _My_ car. _My_ car keys jingled in Heero's hand when he opened up the driver's side and slid into the seat. Of _my_ car. Mr. Oh, Gee, Let's See If the Self-Destruct Button Works was sitting the driver's seat of _my_ car. Mr. I Regret That I Only Have One Life to Give for My Colony Because I Have No Sense of Self Preservation Whatsoever was planning on driving my baby. He wasn't just planning on it, he _had_ driven it. My baby, my poor, sweet innocent baby in the merciless hands of an ex-terrorist, demolitions expert who has a history of pressing the self-destruction button on his beloved machine. 

"Master, get in the car."

"You know, that happens to be _my_ car."

He glared at me for a few seconds.

I snorted. "I refuse to be manipulated."

"May I borrow your car today, Master?" he growled. Someone really needed to sit down with him and teach him that his I'm gonna rip your throat out voice did not help.

"Since you asked so nice. One scratch on my baby, Yuy, and you're fixing it with your tongue."

Bastard smirked.

"That wasn't a sexual innuendo."

"Of course not."

Bastard. I gave him my best don't fuck with me glare—I learned it from him with a few pointers from Wufei—and slid into the passenger seat. Of my own car. "No self destructing my car, you got that? You feel the urge to push the button, you go get your own car!"

He paused in the act of reaching for the keys in favor of looking at me. Slowly, as if he thought I was gonna rabbit or something, he lifted his hand and gently trailed his fingers along my cheek. He smiled just as gently, almost reassuringly. "It's no long necessary for me to self destruct. I have you now."

I just wanted to throw myself in his lap and hug the stuffing out of him.

"Master?"

I must have had that stupid, sappy, oh, I'm so in _looooove_ look on my face that newlyweds and fifteen year old Relenas wore. God, he was so beautiful. Not beautiful like super model beautiful, even though he was beautiful that way, too, but beautiful like angels and puppies were beautiful. I know for a fact my stupid sappy smile got stupider and sappier, but I didn't care at all. "Hmmm?"

"When we get home tonight, well you let me wash your hair?"

I reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the rough stubble under my fingers. "You're the only one I've ever wanted to touch my hair."


	11. Oh, What the Hell. What's a Little S & M Between Virgins?

Mrs. Clovis stepped off the elevator like the bastard love child of Ghengis Khan and a fluffy toy poodle. She put her hands on her hips and glared at me over the rims of her glasses. The old bat paused to smile at Heero, not to mention checking him out like one of those old perverts in the men's room are always checking me out. That is, right before I flash my Preventers issue 9 millimeter and my Preventers issue badge. Though, come to think of it, one of those pervs, not a bad looking perv either, had immediately bent over, ass out, hands crossed behind the back, and begged to be arrested with a come and hither me, you big stud, look in the eye.

God, I was gonna need a squeegee to get all the icky old lady slobber off of _my_ Heero. I put myself between him and her and prepared to battle to the death over his honor. It was gonna be a helluva fight. Mrs. C had proven on more than one occasion that she held a black belt in purse-fu. Wufei should take lessons.

Mrs. Clovis abruptly cracked her face and winked at me. "You sly devil. You never did send him over to check out my pipes."

I was appalled. Shocked and appalled! And she accused _me_ of being a pervert and drilling holes in the wall so I could peek into her bathroom! In front of everyone in the building last tenants meeting even!

"Check out her pipes?" I'm pretty sure the back of my head was getting a grade A quit confusing me or else! glare at the moment. "Did you tell her I was plumber?" Great, he sounded incensed now.

"No, I certainly—"

"You are the naked young man that was kneeling in front of this disgusting pervert's door the other afternoon." She peered around me and giggled. 

From the sudden intake of breath, I knew that my braid was getting treated to the rarely seen and sexy as hell Heero Yuy embarrassed and chagrined glare, complete with blush and pouty bottom lip.

"I live right next door to the disgusting pervert. Drop by and visit _any_ time, dear."

I was aghast. Trust me, me and aghast? _Terrifying._ "Mrs. _Clovis_!"

She leered at him—I would probably have nightmares for the rest of my natural life from it—before toddling off toward the doorman, fanning herself in an over-exaggerated manner.

"And that woman calls _you_ a disgusting pervert?"

"That old bag hates me. Can't imagine why, but she does."

Heero snorted, then pushed me into the elevator and pressed the button to my floor. "You've been a perfect angel, haven't you."

Perfect angel? "We-e-e-e-ell, I wouldn't go _that_ far."

"What'd you do to her?"

"After I plastered over the holes she drilled in the wall, I put a personal ad in the paper for her. She was a bit cheezed, but how was I to know that she didn't like Pomeranians _that_ way?" I shuddered. "That woman can do pissed like nobody's business."

Heero groaned. "Duo, we're going to have a little talk about proportional retaliation."

"Proportional retaliation. Right." I rolled my eyes. "This is me, okay? If you see my gundam, then I will kill you. Remember? The guy who taught me how to work these kinds of if/then routines was into overkill, ya know?"

He just shook his head and snorted. 

I grinned and bounced into the elevator.

A few minutes later, he shut the front door behind us and locked all of it, deadbolts, chains, and even that stupid little doorknob lock you can break with a hard twist. Then he grinned at me. "It's time, Master."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and plastered my best cheerful face on. It was the one I used during the wars when I was outnumbered a jillion to one and the only working demolition device I had handy was the self-destruct button. "Dinner time?"

His already exotic eyes slanted a little bit more in way that made all of my nerve ending sit up and beg. "We're home. It's time for me to fulfill your fantasy."

"You're going to slather yourself with pizza sauce?"

The seductive glare slipped a little bit before he gamely plastered it back on his face. "No, it's time for me to wash your hair. I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

Wash my hair. I couldn't wipe the yes, I'm an idiot, and, yes, I'm ridiculously pleased with myself smile off with steel wool and a picture of Relena in her skivvies. "Me, too."

"Go to the bedroom, Master, take off all of your clothes, and meet me in the bathroom."

"Can't I just, uh, you know, in the bathroom? It's okay to strip in the bathroom."

Heero's glare told me otherwise. He pointed down the hall, presumably toward the bedroom. "Now."

"Gah, _fine_. Be that way." I stomped on to the bedroom with him hot on my heels, probably to make sure I didn't blow his mission plan to hell and gone like normal. "Heero, washing my hair is _not_ a mission!"

He snorted. Like I didn't already know what he thought of _that_.

I flicked the light in the bedroom on and tried to figure out where best to drop trou so that I didn't embarrass myself before I'd gotten at least one hair washing out of him. I don't care what sorts of biased things he'd said about my little guy already, I just knew he would laugh the minute he saw it. He grunted, but took up the only exit out of the room anyway. Bastard. Maybe I could fit in the closet even though those sliding doors took up the last half an inch of room between my stuff and open air.

Heero's shirt hit the carpet. At my feet. There was a half-naked Heero behind me. A boot thunked, then another. Then a belt buckle jangled and denim whooshed. I whipped around and gawked. Well shit, if _you_ had a bare-assed Heero in _your_ bedroom, you'd gawk too!

"Strip, Master. You don't want to get your uniform wet."

"Um."

"Strip!"

I stuck my bottom lip out and toed off my shoes. 

"All of it."

I fiddled with the buttons on my uniform shirt. "Heero," I whined. "C'mon, at least turn your back or something!"

He grunted again, a huffy, annoyed grunt at that. "Fine, Master. However, if you're still wearing something when I turn back around, I'll strip you myself."

Well fucking great. I stuck my tongue out at his back, then spent a few exceptionally pleasant moments admiring his tush. Heero has a world class tush. His butt is like _the_ tush baseline for total tush perfection. No other human can attain the absolute beauty of that sculpted ass. Heero's tush was the epitome of tushness that all we lowly human aspire—

"Master, quit staring at my butt and take your clothes off."

Bastard. I stuck my tongue out at him and crossed my eyes for good measure.

"Don't stick it out unless you plan on using it, Master."

Ooooh! That jerk! Grumbling to myself things better left unrepeated, like, forever, I took my uniform off of my body with great care and then left it all over the floor. What? I can always find it that way. Besides, it would annoy the hell out of Heero with whom I was slightly miffed at, tush perfection aside. It was a sure thing that if I pulled on my robe, Heero would just take it off again, and my braid was long, but not quite long enough to do more than frame my modest assets, if you know what I mean. Yeah, it's kind of pathetic that I can keep the family jewels safely hidden with my hands. 

Heero turned around suddenly, without warning, kind of like Scythe's habit of decloaking at Oz bases and scaring the "It's a gundam!" out of everyone before kicking major ass. His eyes would have been doing the whole undressing me routine if I'd been wearing anything but my hands and a blush big enough to power half of Brussels for a week. He licked his lips, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I blinked. No way. He licked his lips again. Yes way! Holy fuck, Heero was drooling! Over me! I almost left Little Scythe unprotected for a moment while I rubbed my eyes to check to see if they were in working order. Almost.

"Come on, Master, I want to," he purred, "wash your hair."

Oh jeez, that voice was like an instant erection. He could read me the phone book and I'd follow him anywhere, blissfully, with nothing but my strategically placed hands keeping me from abject humiliation. He didn't even smirk, he just gave me that liquid blowjob smile of his and led me to my idea of heaven.

Maybe heaven was the wrong choice of words. Holy fucking hell. Heero had perverted my bathroom. _Heero_ had turned my bathroom into a perverts paradise. Well, a make-do pervert paradise since it's a rented apartment, but what the hell, what's a little jury-rigged S &M torture chamber between virgins? There were _chains_ hanging from the ceiling over my tub. Thick, heavy chains that were gathered with a bright red piece of plastic rope and tied off to the bar thingy molded into the tub where you're supposed to hang a washcloth. Somehow, I don't think the folks at Prefab Tubs R Us had this sort of thing in mind when they slaughtered all those fiberglass trees.

"Uh, Heero...?"

He looked up from lighting the candles he'd put on the sink and on the commode and on the shelf next to the tub. No wonder he wanted us to strip elsewhere, taking clothes off in here would violate every fire code the city had and then some. Wait, where did that shelf come from? It hadn't been there last time I'd paid this particular room a visit. Come to think of it, neither had the candles, the, er, optimistically sized tube of lube, this longish plastic blue vibrator thing with a dolphin carved into it—I did _not_ want to know what he planned on doing with a long plastic blue vibrator thing with a dolphin carved into it sitting next to enough personal lubrication to grease up Shenlong's ass for a gundam gangbang marathon. Leaves us not forget the handc—wait a minute. _Hand_ — "Are those _handcuffs_? What in the hell do we need chains and handcuffs for anyway? You're _washing_ my hair, not interrogating it! Besides, it doesn't know _anything_ about gundam specs!"

He grunted, shook out the match, and then deposited it into the commode where it hissed at us. "This is my first time washing your hair. I want to make sure it's appropriately romantic, Master."

I realize that my leaps in logic use quantum mechanics as their map for argument to syllogism travel, but this was ridiculous. "Handcuffs plus hair equals romance?"

He gifted me with his quit deliberately being a pain in the ass glare, then sighed. "Of course not. The handcuffs are just there to make sure the proper romantic mood is maintained, Master."

Right. "Heero, I've got a meter and a half of hair going on here. You might be the soldier with the Perfect Body, but even _you_ are gonna get some serious muscle strain if you try to do it wearing handcuffs."

He leaned over and kissed me softly, but not long enough to properly distract me from anything. "Thank you, Master. I'm not wearing the handcuffs, you are."

I was beginning to think Heero might want to consider working on this whole Master-slave thing a little bit more. "I might be a virgin, but I'm not completely ignorant. Slaves wear handcuffs, Masters wear sexy leather pants. That's the way it works."

"Masters usually have self control and patience."

I glowered at the floor. Just where does he get off insulting me while sounding all fondly amused by it? Like it's the cutest thing in the world and he just want scratch me behind the ears until my tail wags over it? And why in the hell does that make me feel so damned warm and cherished inside?! Come on, Maxwell, reach for the indignation. Indignant. You can do it. He's insulting your—-

He's rubbing noses with me. "Besides, Master, you're shy."

"I am not!"

"Then put your hands at your sides."

Uh. My little buddy gibbered in horror behind my palms, which were kind enough to maintain a forward position in front of my petite penis, and tried to climb up inside my body. "Natural modesty is _not_ shyness." Shit. I was blushing like an idiot. Again.

"You don't have to be modest, I've already touched you."

"Yeah, well, it was _dark_ then. You know, _dark_?" 

He tilted his head a little to the side and stared at me for a moment, then smiled. "All right, Master."

Y'know, for some reason, I didn't completely trust that smile. I glared at him suspiciously.

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty, it won't work. You're adorable when you pout."

"I am _not_ pouting! I'm glaring! Dangerously!"

He kissed my forehead. "If you say so, Master."

I deepened my glare. "Omae o korosu."

He smiled again and said, "I love you, too, Master."

I huffed and tried to suck my bottom lip back into place. How can you argue with that? Apparently he didn't know either because he bent over the tub and turned on the water. Irked, I glared at the wall and did my level best to keep from crossing my arms over my chest. I was annoyed, but I couldn't leave my little buddy hanging out in the wind. If Heero laughed at it, I just knew I'd never get another boner again as long as lived without medical help. You know, like one of those air pump implants they give you so you've got this tube thing and bulb like the sadistic nurses use when they cut off all of the circulation in your arm until your fingers fall off? Well, they call it taking your blood pressure, but c'mon, do they have to amputate you while they're doing it? I don't think that I could deal with one of those hooked up to Lil' Scythe, even if it was the only way I'd not die a virgin. Besides what about the air pressure valve? How do you explain that sticking out of your groin somewhere? No way. I just couldn't turn my penis into a blow up doll.

"Master," Heero all but sighed, "your penis is perfect."

"You're not only the Perfect Hunk, you're psychic?"

With an amused smirk, he sat in the tub.

"Well?"

"You were petting Scythe. You only do that when you were obsessing about your erroneous and unfounded ideas about the size of your penis." He reached up and grabbed my wrist, tugging me forward gently. "Come on in."

I glared down at him and Little Scythe suddenly made it abundantly clear that, so long as Heero was naked, I'd never have a problem getting an erection. He's just like me. He might be little, but he's full of enthusiasm! Okay, maybe that's a little reaching in the look for the silver lining department, but hey, penises, penii, peneaux what the hell is the plural of penis? Anyway, penii deserve the love, too.

He patted his lap. "Get in."

I stuck my big toe in, to test the whole half centimeter of water that managed to build up between his legs. Holy fuck, how did I know he was into playing lobster? "It's too hot! Are you trying to boil us or something? Damn!"

He sighed, heavily. Okay, so he just stared at me for a moment before adding some cold, but it might as well have been a heavy sigh. "How is that?"

I stuck my finger into it, then added more cold.

He glared. "That's too cold."

"It is not."

He batted my hands away and turned the heat up. It wasn't going to turn me into lobster thermidor, but— 

"It's halfway between, Master. Get in."

Get in. Right. How in the hell was I supposed to sit down without sticking my butt in his face? What if I had a pimple on my ass? Or a long, disgusting hair that I never noticed? Was there butt shaving etiquette I might not be aware of? What if I had an uncontrollable, er, gas explosion at precisely the wrong moment? I'd have to move to Siberia and change my name to Babushka or something.

Heero grunted and that was all the warning I got. One minute I was backing up, hey I'm not stupid, and the next he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down into the tub on top of him. The good news is that no farting took place during my descent and subsequent landing. The even better news was that I was now sitting, bare assed, in a bare assed Heero's lap. Life just could _not_ get any better than that.

His teeth settled gently into the point of my shoulder and his tongue started trailing wet little circles. Leave it to Heero to prove me wrong. Life could get better.

"Master," he purred, like a giant Duo-licking feline type Heero-tiger, "tell me about your Duo and Heero Perverted Preventers fantasies."

Okay, life could get blushier. "Uh, well, you see, it's kind of like...."

He waited for a few years before nuzzling my ear. "Do you think I'll look as good in my uniform as you do in yours?"

The image of Heero in that uniform took over. What that uniform did for Zechs and Wufei's asses was usually enough to make even the most psychotic misanthropes drool, hell, even Une checked them out, but Heero? Man, you get Heero in a Preventer's uniform and it was over. Helen of Troy thought she was hot shit _starting_ a war? We could use Heero's ass in uniform to _stop_ wars. If Une babe's precious Treize-sama had gotten a load of Heero's spandex, coming _or_ going, he would have thrown himself at Wing's feet and begged to have Oz brought down the path of righteousness.

"Duo?"

"Hmm?"

"You're purring."

I grinned. "I'm just thinking about your butt in uniform. Une's mad scientists are gonna have to invent something that keeps us regular mortals from seeing that if we're ever gonna get anything done. Maybe she'll make you wear a dress or something."

He sighed, long and hard, like he did every time I ever exasperated him in the war. What can I say, I'm talented. "Master."

"I think that one of these days, I'm gonna have to bend you over your desk and chew on your butt."

His sigh sounded a lot more annoyed this time. 

Carefully as I could, to keep my bony butt shanks from castrating him and to keep my little guy safely hidden under my hands, I twisted so I could see his face. "What's wrong?"

He glared at me. "I wanted our first time to be romantic."

I almost pointed at the long plastic blue vibrator thing with a dolphin carved into it on the shelf, but caught myself in time. Sorry, Little Scythe! I nodded in its general direction. "How in the heck do you expect me to be romantic with _that_ thing?"

Heero glowered at it. "Trowa said it would help."

"Trowa." I shook my head and scrunched my eyes. "You asked Mr. I'm Not Gay for advice on gay sex?"

He glared at me blankly with his bottom lip stuck out. Gah, that was like the cutest sexiest thing ever. "I didn't. He just pointed it out when we stopped at the sex shop."

"You went to a sex shop with _Trowa_."

He nodded.

" _Trowa_. Not me. _Trowa_."

He did his wounded puppy-dog glare again. His eyes got all big and almost shimmery and I just wanted to lick him all over. "I wanted to surprise you, Master." His bottom lip curled out even more. I couldn't help it. I leaned in just enough to suck on it. God, he even tasted like a pout, a hot, delicious, melted honey all over your body pout. My hands slid up his abs and found his nipples. He hissed, then moaned when I tweaked, then petted. I think everyone's got different kinds of nerves. You got pain nerves and tickle nerves and gotta pee nerves. His breathy panting was twigging every sex nerve I owned. "Master," he moaned, low and long, and I about premature ejaculated all over him. "No, wait."

"You can't stop the premature ejaculation train before it's pulled into the station, baby," I said before testing to see if the sex nerves in his throat were as sensitive as mine. They were.

"Master," he moaned again, then suddenly jackknifed into motion. His lips connected with mine like someone plugging a cord into a wall socket. His tongue slid inside of me and he lapped at the inside of my mouth. God, he could measure every ridge of my palate with the tip of his tongue all he wanted to. It tickled and made me quiver all at the same time. Was this kissing? I've done lip to lip with several people in my life, but nothing like this. Like he was trying to taste the very essence of me from the inside out. At least until he pulled back, the black pupils of his eyes nearly drowning out the blue. He licked his lips and moaned, "Master."

"Heero," I moaned back and reached for his face to pull his tongue back into me. My wrists yanked painfully against something solid. I looked up, a little above my head. "Heero! Take 'em off!"

He didn't. He looked down between us and stared at my penis.

"Take the handcuffs off me, Heero, right now!" I frowned suspiciously at him. He was still staring. I could almost see the air valve in my penis's future. "I order you take them off!"I yanked at the handcuffs and got no where. My little guy was trying to hide behind my balls dammit.

I'd like to think it was a flash of concern and reason that prodded him into motion, but he probably shook himself of his oh-look-how-tiny stupor because of the sheer panic in my voice. Without a word, he shut off the water and then settled me between his thighs with my back to him. 

I was about to start yelling when his hands slid along my abs and covered my little guy for me. "Better?"

I glared at the shower wall. "No."

His finger slid up and pulled on my bottom lip. "It will be, Master."

I gave the wall such a blistering glare that it's a wonder it didn't explode. "If I'm the master, why in the heck am I the one tied up?"

He licked my cheek. "You're adorable when you pout."

"I don't pout!"

I could see the smirk from the corner of my eye. What the hell? Heero Yuy just does not tease people to get a reaction out of them. Right? Anyway. There was nothing cute about it and I was, er, pissed? No, you can't be pissed at Heero when you're naked in a bathtub with him. Slightly concerned. Yes, I was slightly concerned with his, um, hand. The right one was deserting its post, dammit. He picked up a cup from somewhere and dipped it in the water. He slowly poured the water over my chest. It was a little hotter than I was used to but it felt, well, pretty good. He did it again, moving up my chest toward my shoulder. Okay, it felt damned good.

Dropping my head back against his shoulder, I let him pour hot water where ever he wanted. Besides, it's not like he could give my little guy an inspection from that angle.

"Just relax, Master, let me take care of everything." His hands roamed over me from collarbone to my finely honed and gorgeously sculpted abs. Hey, a guy has to compensate somehow, ya know? One of his fingers swirled through my belly button moments before deliciously hot water slid across my neck and chest.

I groaned, shutting my eyes. "A guy could get seriously used to this."

He pressed a kiss to my neck and poured more water over my arms.

"Hey, Heero?"

"Hm?" He slicked the bar of soap in his palms, noisily stirring up lather.

"Do you like being a sex slave?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Haven't had sex yet."

What do you say to that? Me? I turned beet red and mumbled out a little, "Oh." 

His fingers moved slowly over my arms, one at a time. They slowly massaged the soap into my skin from wrists to pits before rinsing them. The soap slurped and then Heero's hands were slicking over my chest, rubbing and tweaking. Thumbs brushed over my nipples and you know I was panting like a bitch in heat.

His hands curled under my butt and lifted me up, until I was sitting in his lap, out of the water. He spread my legs and I let him. Heck, even Little Scythe didn't care that he was standing loud and proud out in the open where the object of our affections could get a good look if he so chose. We even kind of got off on the idea. Well, not the premature ejaculation kind of get off, but more along the lines of Drooling Duo and his Dribbling Ding-a-ling kind of get off. See? Horniness is evil. It makes you do things that you shouldn't ever do, like show off your micro-penis to your obsession. His soapy hands slipped down my belly and cupped my micro-penis before I could get a good panic attack worked up over it. His fingers worked over my balls, behind my balls, to the sides of my balls, and along my whole dick. The scratched through and combed over my pubes until I was ready to scream.

"You're so hot, Master," he murmured, or at least I think he did. "I touch you and you're ready to go off." He jerked along my shaft a couple of times.

"Oh, God," I groaned, looping the chain in my hands just to have something to anchor me to earth.

He let me go before I could go off. He poured water over my little buddy, combing the suds out of the way. "Not yet, Master. Wait until we get to bed."

He opened the drain with a toe and undid my handcuffs. 

I opened my eyes and glared at the wall. Horniness can only be evil if you keep being horny! Argh! "Heero! Dammit! Re-horny-ize me!"

I could feel him freezing behind me. "What?"

"I was getting good and horny, and then you _stopped_."

"Oh, I don't want you to cum until you're in my mouth. You can wait for a few minutes, Master."

Cum in the mouth is good. That kind of implies _blow job_. Blow job. Heero was going to give me a blow job. "Oh. Um. Yeah, okay."

He nudged me in the butt none too gently until I got the hint and stood up. A minute later, the lights were flicked on, the candles blown out, and I was getting sloughed off with a hand towel. "Yo, Heero, leave the skin, man."

"Sorry, Master." He blushed. God, that was cute.

"No prob—mmm." It's official. Heero can shut me up with a kiss anytime. I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him. My braid slid long my butt to tickle my hip. His fingers curled around it, tugging my head back so he could get a better angle to penetrate my mouth with his tongue.

He slowly started backing up, pulling me out of the bathroom and down the hall with long, wet kisses that addled my mind. He pulled his tongue out of my mouth to check our surroundings, then sent us off on a new vector, which I believe was toward the bedroom. 

Wait. Braid. I avoided his lips and reached behind me. There was a braid there, all right, and he was hanging off of it. Moreover it was a _dry_ braid. Not even the end was wet! I tried to jerk it out of his hand, got into a minor tug of war that ended up with me dangling both it and his hand in front of his face.

"What the hell is this?"

He blinked. "Your braid."

"No shit! It's dry!"

He nodded, then tried to kiss me again.

"You were supposed to wash it! Remember? We got into the bathtub specifically so you could wash my hair."

He smiled, then. "I did."

I jiggled my braid and his hand. "Hello!"

"I washed it." He slipped his other hand between my legs, tugging on my pubes. "It's just as soft and silky as I dreamed it would be."

Call me an idiot, but it took me a few minutes to realize what hair he was talking about. I glared at him. "You know, this," I wiggled my braid and the hand hanging off of it under his nose, "is the hair I wanted a sex slave to wash for me."

He blinked, but didn't quit fondling my hair. The _wrong_ hair.

Don't tell me you wouldn't be gritting your teeth in frustration. "Heero, you really suck as a sex slave."

He let go of my curlies to grab my dick and tug me into my bedroom. "Suck? I can do that, Master."

The End


End file.
